These War and Games (EN)
by Bebec
Summary: POST S02E18 - Something is coming. Something terrible...For him, for her and the rest of Humanity. Chloe's life only depends on him. He can save her. He can save them all. All he had to do is... remember. (deckerstar) translation from french.
1. No more going backwards

**Author's notes:**

 _Hello guys :)_

 _This story was in my mind since the end of the season two. I needed to write something else than my usual stories and to finally write this vague idea running in my mind for months, now._

 _My french beta challenged me to write only about Lucifer's POV. And that's what I'll try to do. Sorry for the ones who love Chloe's POV or any other POV._

 **EDIT -** _The story has been checked so you shouldn't find many mistakes and odd grammatical choices (thank you so much for that_ **Kay_Kat**!)

Musique advice :

1) " The World is unraveling " - Milck (soundtrack from the last episode).  
2) " Dear God " - Lawless feat. Sydney Wayser.

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER :** the characters didn't belong to me. They belong to Fox/ netflix

Happy reading !

* * *

 **NO MORE GOING BACKWARDS**

* * *

 ** _"No more going backwards"_**

Warm.

Searing, even.

Why searing?

He had no idea. He didn't really want to know why, actually.

He just wanted it to stop, that this unbearable heat stops lapping at his body and mind. He just wanted to stop feeling this furnace. This stinging pain in his skull intensified by this steady burning in the air.

Where the hell was he?

Why couldn't he open his eyes or simply move the rest of his body?

The possibility of being back in Hell quickly crossed his mind, but faded as quickly. That wasn't possible. He couldn't be in Hell. How could he have been back there, except by his own physical death?

Was that it? Was he dead?

No.

He could now feel the caress of his laborious breath against his hand, the steady lifting of his chest with each new inhalation along with another sensation each time more painful than the previous one. More conscious than the last few seconds, or maybe longer than that, he managed to name this rough thing that was itching his skin and frequently lashing his face.

Sand.

No return to Hell, then.

Hell was surely a quite warm place, but it hadn't arid area of this kind. Not as far as he knew, at least. And he knew enough about this place to be pretty sure of himself. Still, he couldn't be so affirmative about his current situation. Not until he'd finally decide to regain control of his body and mind.

And with all the strength he could still have inside him, Lucifer slowly opened his eyes.

An unbearable brightness assaulted his retinas, forcing him to briefly close his eyes again to avoid becoming blind for the rest of his existence. If the Devil could be exposed to this king of risk, of course. He made another attempt, moistening his lips with his tongue. These seemed want to rival with the aridity nearby. His throat was as searing as the air he was breathing, which didn't reduce Lucifer's discomfort. Once accustomed to the brightness around him, he saw the vague edges of his right arm supporting his head as heavy as lead that he tried to lift from a few inches.

One move after another.

He could do this.

He felt suddenly nauseous as he began to lean on his forearm to get back on his feet, Lucifer clutching his hand in the burning sand. His heart was beating fiercely inside his chest, as if he had been doing intense physical training or something.

All this didn't make any sense.

Lucifer closed his eyes, inhaling deeply the stifling air filled with sand before leaning more on his numbed forearms. The world strongly reeled all around him, making briefly eclipsing the strong brightness of this arid area, but Lucifer stubbornly kept sustaining his momentum. He staggered once standing on his legs, almost collapsing again on the ground.

 _Come on, Luci... You can do this!_

He swallowed, the inside of his mouth remaining stubbornly indifferent to this attempt of dampening. The burning sensation didn't lower either once he managed to stay more or less steady on his both legs.

Everything was burning around him.

The sand was burning his bare, skinned feet. The wind was burning the damaged skin of his bare chest. Just as the blazing star, that he had once created with his Father, was tirelessly tormenting his eyes, swallowing the smallest part of water that could possibly have remained inside his aching body. Breathless, Lucifer mechanically placed his hand before his eyes, hoping – quite stupidly – to stop the inevitable sunlight. The desert was still really fuzzy in front of him, with vague figures suggesting a few dense bushes or distant mountains.

Everything was blurring. The landscape, his thoughts...

How did he get here?

Lucifer quickly lowered his arm, tired of trying in vain to soften his pain. The sun wouldn't suddenly stop shining in the sky just "Just because he wanted it to... not anymore, anyway. It was more important to him to find out what had brought him to this desert, far from any honorable human civilization. And far from the rest of his clothes, it seemed.

He tried to remember the latest events, his thoughts clashing inside his skull before gathering in a more or less coherent thread. He remembered visiting Linda. He remembered calling the Detective without having her on the line, leaving a message before hanging up.

And then...

A flash of pain split his skull, Lucifer taking his head in his hands as he let out a hoarse cry.

 _You d—… not have a choice !_

 _Sam—! You can no longer esc… —ine justice !_

The strong pain faded quickly, leaving behind only a shooting pain inside his skull. Lucifer took a noisy, hoarse breath, blinking several times with his hands still against his temples.

What the hell was that?

He felt something wet running along his stiff neck. He moved his hand to this spot, then looking with growing confusion a crimson hue covering his fingers.

Blood.

His own blood.

Lucifer stroked his fingers covered in blood, frowning. How could it be his own blood? He was invulnerable. At least, he was when Chloe wasn't around. And she wasn't there, in this desert. It was obvious. He moved his hand covered in blood to his head again, feeling carefully every accessible inch of his achy skull. He stopped this inspection a few moments later, another stabbing pain answering instinctively to his clumsy touch as his fingers brushed the back of his head. His hair wasn't covered with tough sand, but with dried blood. Lucifer held back a plaintive whistling and flinched with the new rush of pain. An odd sensation appeared between his shoulder blades, like an instinctive reaction of his body to the cost of his mind.

A forgotten sensation.

First, he thought to have imagined that soft touch, that heavy weight on his back he hadn't felt since a few years. Since he'd left Hell behind.

 _No._

Slowly, Lucifer lowered his hand down his side, hardly swallowing, as much by the constant aridity inside his throat as by the strong apprehension he was feeling right now. He turned his head slowly to his left. Then to his right.

 _No... no._

His breathing became sporadic, responding to the rage and misunderstanding that stifled his entire body, his entire thoughts. He looked up, staring wide-eyed at the blue sky above him, a silent question on his crazed lips and in this horrified expression.

Why?

Why? He never asked Him this! Never!

His huge white wings took their full expansion along his sides, further imposing their return in his life. Whatever his desires, they were back to be at one with him. Lucifer clenched his fists, glaring at the indifferent sky.

"I never asked You this!" he muttered.

What had He imagined, this time, huh?

That Lucifer would welcome this umpteenth manipulation of his own free will because... because what?! Because he'd have suddenly changed his mind, this change manifesting as do not take celestial revenge with the Flaming Sword?! Because he'd preferred to send his mother anywhere else instead of risking other lives with this stupid quarrel?!

Because what?!

He hadn't asked anything in return. Nothing.

He stubbornly stared at the sky with all the hatred he had in him, hoping for a reaction, something that would explain this absurdity a little bit.

Nothing came, except the pestering wind along his wings.

Of course.

Lucifer let out a bitter exclamation and finally lowered his gaze. Of course, he wouldn't get an answer. Why would he get one now, after so many millennia retreated into silence? He looked around him again, losing interest in the untimely return of these appendages in his back to focus on something completely different. He had to find out what had happened to him. And make a quick gateway from this unknown dry place.

Where did he end up? Had he come so far of his own free will or—? No, probably not. Who had brought him here? Why? How?

Why did everything get mixed up in his head?

Lucifer couldn't remember anything after hanging up. He looked again at the bright sun that didn't seem to want to stop its unchanging intensity burning his skin. How long had he been in this desert? He searched the inside of his pockets without finding anything useful. Not a trace of his phone or car keys. Although neither of these things would have been a great help to him right now. He doubted he could find any network here to call Mazikeen or even the Detective t—

Chloe.

His call.

"Bloody Hell..." he swore, worried.

He'd promised her.

No more going backwards.

What would she think of him by not seeing him coming to her home? Definitely the worst. How could he blame her for that? Lucifer was the only one to blame here. He had so often disappointed and hurt her that his disappearance would inevitably appear as another evasion in her eyes.

He had to find her. Clear up this misunderstanding.

But how?

He still didn't where he was and where to go. Walking in this desert, without any guide, it was... he wasn't even sure to be able to walk such a distance. Whatever was the distance to walk to re-join civilization. To re-join her.

Hesitantly, Lucifer looked over his shoulder, his big feathery appendages grazing his burned sides with each of his gesture. He didn't have to walk, strictly speaking. The flight path could replace the sandy path. A possibility quite conceivable if it would be another celestial being than Lucifer.

Impossible, then.

He didn't want their return. And he didn't want to use them in anyway. It was out of the question to give his Father this satisfaction.

That was absolutely out of the question.

Lucifer put his hand covered with sand over his dazzled eyes, scanning one last time the arid area before making a decision. He took a deep breath, his wings vanishing into the relentless sunrays. He lowered his hand and started to walk straight ahead.

The so-called Christ had walked the desert for forty days and forty nights, a mere philosophical mortal crazy enough to interest the Devil himself with this crazy journey. If an insane human could have survived so long in such a place without drinking or even eating...

Lucifer Morningstar could do it as well.

 **-xXx-**

* * *

How long was he walking?

A minute?

An hour? A whole day?

The sun hadn't moved an inch, burning Lucifer's bare, skinned back without interruption. Following each step, each wavering step on the arid and stony ground still stretching before him as far as the eye can see.

The wind, lashing sand and chafing his eyes reddened with exhaustion and heat, ruffled his ears from time to time, the noisy blast of air turning into odd words.

 _You must help me cl… the br… Lucifer!_

 _We ne... to move. Now._

"Shut up..." Lucifer replied weakly, slowly shaking his head to get rid of this odd hearing phenomenon.

Maybe he was hallucinating... Yeah, maybe.

He tried to focus on his disordered progression, on the regular shooting pain along his feet scratched by the rough touch of sand and rocks. One step after another. He didn't have to stop.

Not stop.

 _Hurry up! They're co—!_

He was thirsty.

So thirsty.

Why did his throat remain dry and achy? He needed water. Alcohol would have been preferable, but water now seemed to him a nectar much more precious and a hundred times more enjoyable than all his priceless bottles kept in his penthouse.

Water.

Just one drop. A single drop.

 _The main part of the troops has been requisitioned to contain the i—_

" _ **Shut the hell up!**_ " he wanted to scream with all his strength.

Which wasn't much, actually. An angry murmur was the only thing that hardly came out from his burned mouth. His words, which were intended to be aggressive,Lucifer staggered for some distance, his balance faltering, before collapsing on his knees on the ravaged ground. He stayed like that, breathless with his heart beating fiercely inside his chest.

It wasn't a good sign. Not at all.

The voices stopped, at least.

He pushed on his hands but couldn't stand up. He had to stand up.

He had to move.

 _But... where?_

Lucifer looked in front of him, seeing only the same burned ground, the same rocks and seedlings.

Always the same landscape.

Always the same fatality.

Always the same fear.

Was he lost? Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to say. It was hard for him to think. Breathing, too. When was he getting out of this barren area? An increasingly muggy torpor was teasing his limbs and his will. He'd have liked so much give way to it. Nothing and no one could stop him.

He was alone in the middle of nowhere.

Alone and exhausted.

 ** _"So... I'm coming over now to tell you the truth about me."_**

Lucifer leaned on his hands, straightening up on his shaky legs very slowly.

No way he was staying there.

Lucifer kept walking straight ahead, unwavering. Disregarding the pain, the fatigue and these odd voices that kept whispering in his ears. Disregarding the heat, the thirst... absolutely everything, except for one single thing.

One single person.

One single promise.

"—m coming over," he mumbled to the arid horizon.

He wouldn't break his word. He would never break it and even less to the Detective.

The Devil's word was his bond.

"I'm coming over…."

 **-xXx-**

* * *

Everything was so... yellow.

Why?

He was sure there was a logical explanation to this phenomenon, but he couldn't remember it. All he knew came down to this blinding, unvarying hue in front of him.

Strange, really.

The sky shouldn't have been so bright, he thought. The sky should have been blue.

Not yellow. Not so dazzling.

Lucifer kept watching, pursuing his quite relevant study about the unusual hue of the skies. He frowned after a time, another question appearing in his mind.

Wasn't he walking?

Yes, he had walked. In this desert.

And then what?

Just that yellowish bright in front of him.

He'd never really liked this color. It was rough, difficult to wear, even for him. It was really an awful hue. It even managed to seep beyond his closed eyelids now.

Really invasive.

Why did he have to deal with this, already?

He had no idea. Just a vague sensation of urgency. Something to do. Something essential, wasn't it?

Maybe.

This quirky yellow hue went further, tirelessly assaulting his eyes, but also his body. Lucifer felt weak tremors affecting his shoulder and then his arm.

"—ack...off..." he tried to say.

The color began to make sounds just as strange. A muffled, steady noise that came with each new insistent tremor along his numb limb. A color wasn't supposed to act that way.

Another tremor against his arm came. Just like another indistinct sound.

"Go... Go away, " he mumbled, turning his head imperceptibly to the side, annoyed.

The color forced him to face it by firmly holding his face with its hands, Lucifer grumbling other incomprehensible insults while struggling weakly in its embrace. He froze after a while, confused.

Hands.

A color couldn't have hands, could it?

"—ir? Open your eyes! Come on!"

And a color couldn't definitely speak.

Open his eyes.

Open his eyes...

Lucifer began to fight against the numbness of his limbs and mind, he fought against the brightness and opened his eyelids slightly.

A blurry shadow was before him, shaking him gently and shouting encouragement. He frowned before closing his eyes again, dazzled by the merciless rays of the star in the sky.

"No, no, no! Come on! Wake up!" said the shadow.

It didn't seem like he was sleeping, though. He was tired, but...

Lucifer felt something hard against his crazed lips. Something hard and wet.

Water.

He tried to lift his head and grab with his hand the bottle that was moistening his mouth, which was grazed by heat and sand. That hands that held his face moved to his back to straighten him a little and help him drinking more easily. The liquid ran along his palate and inside his throat in an unbroken delightful flow, but it quickly stopped. Lucifer then opened his eyes again, letting out a groan of protest against the person responsible for this interruption.

The previous shadow had faded for more precise shapes. A face. A worried look. A man he didn't know.

"Easy there. If you drink too fast, you're gonna throw up on me and I really don't want to take that chance. Can you tell me your name?"

Throwing up?

The Devil didn't throw up.

Lucifer blinked several times, puzzled.

Who was that man? Why did he support him like that in his arms? Why did he want his name?

He lost interest in that person to turn his head to the side. Beyond the steady light of the sun, he could now see the asphalt road frequently smoothed by the sand of the desert it was crossing. This road where he seemed to have been lying for a while. He could see a car a few feet away, the driver's side door wide open. Probably the man's car, who was trying to catch his attention.

What now?

He winced as he felt the tremors through his numb body as this stranger shook him more sharply.

"Your name! What's your name?"

His name.

Well, if he really wanted to know...

" L-Lu...ifer. "

"Lucifer? The Devil himself, huh?" he joked, finally allowing him to drink another sip of water. "You're lucky I was driving nearby! I'm Zach."

Lovely.

The water ran along his chin, then dripping on his chest burned by sunlight. The Devil... burned.

Again.

"No, no! Stay with me, Lucifer, okay? Open your eyes! I'm gonna take you to the hospital. You just have to stay awake... Can you do that for me?"

Had he closed his eyes again?

He didn't even notice. He felt sorry for this. Apparently, his body refused to obey him. Like his thoughts. And maybe it wasn't that bad. He was tired of that yellow. Tired of struggling against sleep without any acceptable reason.

No.

There was a reason.

Of course, there was one. He remembered it, now.

Lucifer groaned as he tried to move his arm, cursing his weakness, and gripped Zach's sleeve with shaking fingers. He struggled to keep his eyes open, his eyelids slowly lowering on them with impressive efficiency as he hardly said a few words to this do-gooder:

"Decker. C-Ch...'oe Decker. LAPD...'must..."

"Decker?" Zach repeated. "I must what? Hey! Stay with me, pal!"

He wasn't going anywhere, though.

He was just closing his eyes, that's all.

Better to close his eyes.

This yellow was terrible.

 **-xXx-**

* * *

"—ojave's desert. All he could tell me was that he seemed been there for a while. One day, maybe more than that."

"We can check the area, but—"

"I know, Dan. It would be a miracle if we found anything useful."

What were that voices?

He couldn't put a name to them. He knew them, however. There was a creasing sound, followed by a sigh expressing some helplessness.

"Look, the doctors said he was out of danger."

"Yeah, I know. But—" protested the more feminine voice.

More pleasant to hear, too.

"He's fine. It's Lucifer... He'll get over it."

Another sigh. He would have liked to know who was speaking, who was sighing so much. Know where he was and why. There must have been a reason for his presence here, right?

There must have been a reason for this.

Another sharp sound. Footsteps.

"He'll be fine," repeated the familiar male voice. "Trust me, Chloe."

 _Chloe._

 _Chloe..._

Right, he remembered now. He had to find the Detective. He had to tell her. Tell her that all this was a terrible misunderstanding. She had to know...

Lucifer's left hand moved on the rough sheet covering his numb body, this simple gesture quickly awakening a shooting pain inside his limbs. He groaned weakly, caught off guard by all these truly uncomfortable sensations.

Why did he feel like his skull was split in two parts?

"Lucifer?" asked the female voice.

He tried to answer, but only an incomprehensible grunt came out of his mouth. If he couldn't say two consistent syllables, perhaps could he open his eyes? It was worth the try, anyway.

At first, he saw nothing more than the same darkness, so much so that he thought he'd felt miserably with this, too. Then, the darkness suddenly vanished from his field of vision, revealing hazy shapes at first. Two people. A rather tough man and a woman with blond hair standing near a window with lowered blinds.

The woman turned to the man, quickly grabbing his arm as her still hazy face remained turned toward Lucifer.

"Find a doctor... now!" she told him.

A doctor?

For who? Him?

Lucifer heard the man going out of the room like a shot as he blinked several times. He looked around him confusingly. He stared for a long time at the IV hanging over his head and the cardiac monitor next to it.

Was he in a hospital?

"Lucifer? You hear me?"

He looked down and realized that the young woman had approached without him noticing. He blinked again, her rough and hazy features gradually becoming clearer to his relief.

It wasn't any young woman. Certainly not.

It was her.

It was her gray eyes. Her mouth. Her face.

"C'loe..." he managed to say with difficulty.

Damn it, his throat was so dry.

Chloe seemed to read his mind and took a glass of water near the bed, helping him to drink a few sips under her worried look. Lucifer swallowed and gave her a faint smile.

Better. Much better.

"Seems the devil can also drink water from time to time," the Detective teased him, though he noticed a slight tremor in her voice.

He wanted to laugh, but his body called him to order.

Right.

Mortality. Fortunately, the Detective wasn't with him in this bloody desert.

"It's definitely not worth a good Scotch..." he whispered, looking at her.

"Scotch is not recommended for severe dehydration, unfortunately."

"Well, that's unfortunate."

They both stopped talking. Chloe kept looking at him, a gleam he couldn't quite define crossing her gaze at one point before disappearing. She put the glass on the table and sat on a seat near him, giving him a forced smile. He noticed that red marks were encircling her eyes.

Had she cried? Why?

"What happened?" asked Lucifer, quite disturbed by his partner's sudden silence.

"A tourist found you lying on the highway in the middle of the desert a few hours ago," Chloe explained, looking toward the corridor before focusing her attention on him again.

"Desert...yeah, I remember."

"What else do you remember?" she asked him like a good cop and the worried friend she was.

Lucifer tried to focus, but his thoughts ran away from him. He couldn't remember anything useful except his call.

"I remember calling you last night, that's all. I'm sorry to have let you down, Detective. I can assure you th—"

She had frowned in perplexity while listening to him, sitting up before placing her hand on his, more worried.

"Lucifer..." she said, interrupting his clumsy apologies. "Can you tell me what's the today's date?"

He looked at her, puzzled.

"Well..." he thought out loud. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but yesterday was the sixth of June. Why do you ask, Detective?"

She stared at him without batting an eye, clasping his hand with hers as her partner stared at her too, confused.

Why the today's date was so important?

He heard Daniel's annoying voice outside the room but ignored it. Chloe's prolonged silence and her look, both expressing an emotion far beyond anxiety, caught his full attention.

"Detective?"

"Lucifer... it wasn't the sixth of June yesterday," she told him, while carefully watching his reactions.

He kept staring at her without understanding. Why did yesterday's date upset her that much now? It couldn't be that important, could it? It was just a date.

A date. That's all.

"What do you mean?" he couldn't help asking, fazed.

"It was..." she stopped, hardly swallowing, looking anywhere else in the room except at him. "It was the twelfth of July."

Twelfth of July.

No. No, that was impossible. Just yesterday, he was coming out of the hospital – to come back a few hours later, it seemed – and...

No. It couldn't be true.

Lucifer gently shook his head while frowning, confused. Chloe looked at him again, squeezing his hand almost painfully to tell him the horrible reality he was struggling to deny.

"You've been missing for a long time, Lucifer. More than a month..."

* * *

 **TBC**

* * *

 **Author's notes**

So:? XD

What do you think about this first chapter?  
Let me a little review as always. I'll answer to each one of them as always ^^  
Thank you for reading this first chapter.

Bye !


	2. Retrograde humanity

**Summary :**

Lucifer was found in the middle of the desert by Zach, a tourist. A whole month had passed since the night of his kidnapping… What happened to him all this time?

* * *

 **Author's notes :**

 _Finally! I've finally finished this damn translation. Sorry, sorry. I've been a lot busy. The third chapter is already written in French and read by one of my beta's, so… You should have its translation rather quickly. I've also already begun to write the next part of " **Une nécessité** " in French._

 _Good news, huh?_

 _Thanks for the reviews, fav and follows. :)_

 _Happy reading !_

* * *

 **RETROGRADE HUMANITY**

* * *

It seemed so ludicrous.

Almost overrated.

As overrated and unsurprising as a soap could be.

"Can you tell me your whole name?"

"Lucifer Morningstar."

Of course, the audience always had the feeling of seeing, of being a witness to a unique event on this insignificant screen. The depicted situation was nonetheless ludicrous and so easily predictable for any reasonable person.

It was ludicrous to him.

"Where have you been living until recently?"

"Los Angeles."

Nothing made sense. And thinking this about his situation wasn't that surprising too, was it? Anyone else in his position would react like him and would find all this senseless.

But he was certainly not anyone else.

He was the Devil.

"How long have you been living there?"

"Almost six years."

What was happening to him was never trivial or similar to any other human experience. Then how could something so ridiculously human happen to him?

"And where did you spend your childhood?"

"First, at the Silver City before being sent straight to Hell for asking far less stupid questions than yours…."

Lucifer, who had been looking at the yellowed wall in front of his bed until then, turned his head and glared annoyingly at the doctor who had been disturbing his thoughts for a few minutes now. The practitioner blinked several times in a rather funny way, probably analyzing the last sharp sentence of his patient and finding a sensical meaning to it.

Did talking about a mysterious Silver City and Hell in one sentence mean that he was suffering of a much more serious amnesia? Or was it showing another neurological disorder?

Maybe. Who cared?

Here were the facts, with or without his diabolical delusions, which seemed to think this Doctor and the Detective sitting on a chair far from his bed and the two men, staying in the background.

Lucifer, the Devil himself, had lost his memory.

And asking him a lot of absurd questions didn't put things right or appease his bad mood at all.

The Doctor in charge of his examination - and whose name didn't matter to him – stepped back slightly and cleared his throat to express his embarrassment. Lucifer said nothing more, gaze firmly fixed on the wall in front of him as Chloe stood up and talked with this supposedly experienced neurologist. He listened to them distractedly, bringing back his aching legs against his chest, annoyed by the shooting pain between his shoulder blades that never left him, not even with all the legal drugs they gave him since his arrival here.

His occasional mortality near the Detective could sometimes have some benefits.

The paint on the wall, yellowed by years, reminded him vaguely and to a lesser extent of the vivid hue of the desert where he had walked after his abrupt awakening. It seemed normal to find that sandy arid tint in a town so far away from any other civilized people.

Yuccah Valley.

A lovely small town of twenty thousand inhabitants in California's San Bernardino County. Lovely and suffocating, both for the sand that seemed to be able to pervade every tiny millimeter of the town and for the material and mental simplicity of the people who willingly lived there.

That was where he had ended up after a long chaotic wander in the desert. Nevertheless, Lucifer remained convinced that he had done better than Jesus a few thousand years ago. It could hardly be worse than this asshole, that said. Lucifer once again heard a whisper that didn't come from the other people in the room, not from the shabby corridor of the hospital either. He closed his eyes and sighed, waiting – as he had done since waking up here – that it stopped.

He couldn't do anything else.

Wait until they shut the hell up. Until it starts again.

The whispers were weaker than those he had heard during his long walk towards civilization, at least a semblance of it. Syllables barely more audible than a light breeze in his ear. Words that vanished into silence as soon as he deigned to listen to them, as much out of boredom as out of curiosity.

Chloe, still politely conversing with the doctor in the center of the small bedroom given to him, gave him a worried look.

Of course, she had noticed.

He didn't know better detective than she. She who was used to study people's body language for cases. She had obviously noticed this slight movement he was doing as soon as this fleeting sound was brushing his ears, this discreet start and this slight tension in his limbs. He did his best to hide it, but Chloe wasn't fooled by him. Lucifer stopped looking at the wall as the Detective stopped looking at him out of the corner of her eye, both focusing on the practitioner's predictable diagnosis.

"…Mr. Morningstar's retrograde amnesia can be explained. A severe dehydration and physical exertion over such a long period may, to a lesser extent, have impaired his cognitive abilities for a short period of time. It's our first theory."

"What about the other?" the Detective immediately asked, crossing her arms on her chest.

"The other possibility – the most likely – is this serious head trauma to the back of his skull that we actually can't define the origin of. I've never seen anything like these marks in my whole career…. Anyway, it's normal then to lose a significant part of your memories after that."

"Will he quickly get his memory back or—?" she insisted.

The doctor sighed softly, expressing his utter helplessness to solve this problem by some medical way. It was unlikely, however, that this kind of solution has a real chance to work on the Devil.

"I can't answer you right now," he told her, putting his pen in his white jacket. "Some patients get their memories back after a while, but unfortunately… most lose them forever after this kind of trauma. I'm sorry."

Lucifer let out a disdainful exclamation when he heard these pathetic sheepish apologies. A heavy silence ensued to such an extent that he could have heard a bloody bug fly and suffocate in the sand on the floor. Why did they call this town "Yucca Valley"? Sand Valley seemed much more appropriate, from what he said.

"Okay. When will he be able to leave this room?" the Detective asked, Lucifer feeling her disapproving look on him.

The Doctor cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment and hurried to answer her:

"Well, we should first do some extra exams before even thin—"

"No."

They both turned to Lucifer who, despite the heavy numbness of his limbs, pretended to remove the rough cover covering his body to finally leave this horrible bed.

"I beg your pardon? Bu—! Mr. Morningstar, you ca—! " exclaimed the practitioner, seeing his patient physically ignoring his medical opinion.

He never thought that standing up could be so difficult and exhausting. He managed to do so anyway, holding on to his bed with one hand so as not to fall to the ground or show any sign of weakness. Lucifer glared at the neurologist, making him understand that he didn't need or care about his help and advice.

"I'm leaving," he said. "Not tomorrow or in a few days, but right now, Doctor!"

The Doctor, scared with his stubborn patient's threatening tone, stammered some unintelligible words before Chloe took part in the discussion for him and Lucifer.

"His health isn't in real danger if he leaves the hospital today, right?"

"I'm afraid it's quite the opposite, Detective."

 _"Lucifer…"_

He rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling annoyingly on the stiff collar of his nightshirt. Why put on such irritating thing while your health was at its lowest? A curious way to end his life, really….

The neurologist pinched his lips, torn between his purely professional qualms and his personal desire not to see Lucifer again and thus no longer suffer his bad mood. A few seconds passed before he agreed to this reasonable request.

"I can't deny that your state of health has changed for the better since your admission," he granted. "That being said, you must promise me to strictly rest for the next days. You don't just have a cold or something! It would be wise not to overestimate your strength."

"I don't bloody ne—"

"He'll do it," promised the Detective for him. "I'll make sure he'll rest, Doctor."

"Ow! Can't wait to see you try, Detective!" he teased her by way of reprisal and from habit, too.

She didn't reply, though.

The anonymous Doctor – in Lucifer's mind, at least – gave them a curious look before leaving the room, telling them he would take care of the hospital forms. A silence as heavy as the previous one filled the space between the two partners. Lucifer paid no real attention to it, irritated by this stupid human's requests about his health. He was immortal! Staying still for several days wouldn't help him find the person responsible for his kidnapping.

He risked a look towards his partner who kept looking at him insistently.

"So… what is your devilish plan to make me do your _deepest darkest desire_ , Detective?" he asked her with a slight smile. "Handcuffs are quite useless to me, as you know, but I wouldn't mind if you're planning to use them for anot—"

"You're gonna stay to my place tonight and start happily bouncing at Lux again while I'll be hundred percent sure that you're fine," she interrupted him authoritatively.

"I am _fine_!" he shouted, annoyed.

His tone was sharper than he would have liked, but he didn't apologize for it. He put his feet on the old floor and stood up. The movement seemed much more difficult than before. Or maybe was it the drugs finally acting on his body? Still, he staggered while darkness suddenly impeded his sight. Lucifer clenched the metal rail around the bed and shut his eyes, his breathing becoming jerky. When he opened them again, he saw Chloe's worried face who was supporting him to prevent him from falling at her feet.

"You're anything but fine, Lucifer!" she replied, just as annoyed by his stubbornness. "Here's the deal; either you do what I say for once and you'll leave this hospital in the hour or I'm gonna talk again with the Doctor who'll keep you tied up to this bed for the next two weeks… Deal?"

They looked each other, each one defying the other with the same intensity. Finally, Lucifer abdicated with another exasperated sigh and abruptly stepped away from her embrace.

"Well, you're a tough negotiator, Detective. Fine, then… Seems we have a deal. But I flat-out refuse to leave this room like that!" he said, showing the questionable nightshirt.

Chloe looked at it and sighed before nodding.

"I'm gonna get you some clean clothes. Don't move, I'll be right back."

She then left the room, Lucifer fulminating against her stubbornness to slow his investigation. The situation, his current situation didn't allow him any respite. His kidnapping was already rather questionable, but the fact that he had disappeared for so long and left in the desert without remembering anything about it….

How could he have even been so easily neutralized?

The Detective wasn't around at that time, was she? Truth be told, he didn't know this for sure. Not yet. Even if she actually was near the hospital that night, that didn't explain that gaping hole in his memory. She made him vulnerable and mortal, but a physical aggression of that kind couldn't be due to her strange power on him.

It couldn't explain the return of his wings either.

His Father was inevitably involved in all this.

Why? Why giving him back his wings? Why take his memories away for such a short period of time?

Wh—?

Lucifer lifted his head as he heard the handle grate under the slight pressure made by someone outside the room. Chloe came in and closed the door behind her, giving him some folded clothes with worn black sneakers. He looked at this with a horrified expression.

"Is this your own way of tormenting me for not having been nice with the dear Dr. Moron?" he asked, unfolding the red and black checkered shirt with his fingertips.

"Is it working?" asked Chloe, amused by his disgust.

"Maze would look like a puppy next to you!" Lucifer said, sniffing a piece of fabric suspiciously. "Where did you find this? I'm not a bloody woodcutter!"

"That's all I could find to the lost property. No Armani in there, I'm afraid."

"I will never wear these things, Detective!"

Chloe shrugged, feigning a sincere disinterest about his clothing distress and crossed her arms.

"As you wish. Stay here, then. Or you can leave this place bare-naked, I don't care."

"Weren't you claiming your concern about my well-being earlier? If it's the price to pay to leave this bloody town…" he mumbled before moving away from the bed.

"Where are you going?" asked the detective, placing her hand on his chest to stop him.

Lucifer stared at her with some confusion and then showed with his head the half-opened door leading to the bathroom.

"To some privacy," he told her.

"Since when you need some?"

"Since when does it bother you?" he replied without answering her first question, intrigued by her behavior.

The Detective had a really odd behave with him. She didn't seem… comfortable with him. Of course, she was feigning to perfection – almost as well as he, he had to admit – this disinterest and sarcasm she had always had since the beginning of their wonderful partnership.

But, as time passed, something didn't sound right.

He couldn't say what exactly. Something was different; she was acting differently even if she was trying to hide it under her usual comeback.

What was happening to her?

After looking him strangely, she removed her hand from his chest and moved away, embarrassed.

"Okay… Uhmm…"

He stared at her again, more puzzled and slowly moved – slowed down by this heavy tension inside his legs with each of his steps – to the bathroom without a word, Chloe nevertheless saying another strange speech behind him.

"I… I'll stay here. Just… Just in case."

Lucifer didn't answer her, closing the door with flaking paint behind him. Did the low intellect of this town have already affect the Detective's mental abilities? It was therefore all the more urgent to leave this place and quickly go back to real civilization. At least, he hadn't had to endure the same strangeness with Daniel, who had already gone back to L.A. a few hours ago.

He put the clothes on the edge of the sink with a cracked basin. He leaned over the mirror and stared long at his drawn features and the many grazes and burn marks on his face and neck. Lucifer loosened the lace holding his nightshirt – cursing again this shooting pain that sprang up between his shoulder blades – and let it fall at his feet. The mirror barely giving a reflection of his body until his shoulder, he couldn't easily examine the rest of his body harassed by the desert so long.

By the desert and something else.

Something or someone else.

Lucifer sighed softly, turning slightly to touch a bruise as big as his head along his left side. He could at least be sure for having fiercely fight back against his attackers. The bruise had begun to turn into a quite awful blue circle, remaining purplish-blue in its center. What did the medical team say about this? That these bruises were recent, barely a day or two old? Corporal marks in lieu of his wavering memory, reminding him this fight that had surely happened right before he'd been left alone in the middle of nowhere.

Why leaving him there after a whole month of… absence? Had he been held captive somewhere for all this time and then suddenly release?

None of this made sense, even with his Father as the main suspect.

After putting the jeans on him reluctantly, he ran his hand absent-mindedly over the sensitive middle of the bruise where he had been hit; feeling suddenly dizzy.

 _Pain._

 _Go!_

 _A quick gateway._

 _Now._

 _Lucifer! GO!_

"Lucifer?"

First, Lucifer felt something cold and rough running along his neck.

Why was he seeing little black spots before his eyes?

That was strange….

He blinked several times, hoping to make disappear this phenomenon, and shook his head for putting him straight.

This horrible dizzy feeling disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving him panting and half slumped on the sink. He heard a familiar rustle while Chloe was calling him from the bedroom, concern changing her voice just like his previous dizziness did. He lifted his head and looked in the broken mirror his white wings that had instinctively appeared in his back and had violently hit the mirror in front of him, a few pieces of broken glass running along his black hair. He heard the door handle turn as the Detective called him again.

"Lucifer? What's go—? "

He quickly made his feathery appendages disappear – glad that he still could count on his instincts unaffected by his actual condition – his partner's face appearing a moment later through the half-opened door. She opened it totally when she saw him and rushed to him.

 _"Lucifer!"_

He vaguely waved his hand to tell her he was fine, unable to say a coherent sentence right now. He was still struggling to catch his breath and a shooting pain – increased by his partner's voice - was rising along his sweaty temples.

What the hell happened?

"—m fine…. Everything's fine, Detective. Just… 'eel a bit dizzy."

"I'll call the doc!"

"No!" he gasped. "That won't be necessary."

Lucifer expected some exclamations totally opposed to leaving him like that without further deep examination, but nothing came. Not a word or a threatening order… nothing. Just another odd silence. He straightened up a little - more alert than before - and looked the Detective, surprised by her lack of reaction. She seemed frozen, stupefaction petrifying her lovely face, scrutinizing without blinking once his bare back.

"Something wrong, Detective?" he asked politely.

She opened her mouth without being able to answer him or say one single syllable, keeping looking his back. She approached her hand and made a slight pressure on it, asking him thus to turn.

"I… Lucifer, your back…" she whispered at last to his great relief.

"My back?"

She touched the perfect skin – except the few burns all over his body - of his shoulder blades with her fingertips.

"Your scars… They're _gone_! Wh-What happened?" she exclaimed, stunned.

Lucifer flinched slightly with her hands along his skin, the muscles of his wings still too much sensitive to really appreciate this touch, even if he didn't really use them since their required return in his life.

Grim-faced, Lucifer met Chloe's gaze, unable to hide any longer his distress and helplessness about what had happened to him, what was happening to him….

"I can't remember…"

 **-xXx-**

* * *

Lucifer sighed again, craning his neck to take another look – probably the thousandth in half an hour – towards Chloe. Filling some papers in to release the Devil from such a dusty town seemed to take an eternity. He stood less and less for the stifling air inside the corridor which separated him from freedom from only a few meters.

A half-freedom.

Total freedom would have included alcoholic drinks and his penthouse. At the very least. It was an excellent starting point, according to him.

He watched the Detective's face being swallowed through the regular noisy, sweaty passing of people in this corridor. How could there be so many people gathered in one place in such a small town? He was so eager to breathe the fresh air from the outside, from L.A. He leaned against the wall and resigned himself to wait a bit longer for his partner, however more and more tempted to steal her car keys and thus go away faster. Another minute lost here to sign another bloody paper was another minute lost to find out what happened to him the last month.

He absent-mindedly dusted one of his sleeves rolled up at the elbows, cursing again that he had to wear these horrible things longer than he wanted. He surely looked ridiculous with this outfit. And the Devil couldn't afford to be ridiculous.

"Lucifer?"

He lifted his head and stared at the man standing now in front of him. He frowned, certain to have already met him before, but he wasn't able to put a name on this juvenile face. The man was tall, almost as tall as he was, and had bright blond hair. A blond hue quite rare in America. A European, maybe?

"Do you recognize me?" he asked him, smiling kindly and offering him his hand. "Zach!"

Lucifer finally made the connection between this name and the man's face in his mind after a few seconds, letting out a slight exclamation as soon as he remembered, shaking his hand.

"The Good Samaritan mad enough to help the Devil, right? Of course, how could I forget that?"

How could he forget...

It was, indeed, an excellent question. And an unpleasant quirk of fate.

"You're probably the craziest of the two of us for having walked in the desert without water or food," he teased him, wrinkles surrounding his gray eyes.

"Well, can't say it was a personal choice…."

"Yeah, I heard that. Sorry, pal."

"It could have been worse if I didn't meet you, Zach," Lucifer said, shrugging. "You helped me, and I'd like to return the favor."

Zach squinted, intrigued.

"Return the favor, you say?"

"Yes, and you should make the most of it. The Devil doesn't often owe a favor to someone. It's quite the opposite, actually. "

" _Make a deal with the Devil_ _?_ Sounds pretty dicey to me, uhm?" replied Zach.

He really liked this tourist and his way of thinking.

Lucifer smirked and said:

"My hellish abilities don't imply risks; I'm just looking for pleasure. For me and my guests. If you ever go to LA any day, these pleasures will wait for you at Lux! You won't regret this!"

He heard Chloe call him across the hall; she finished filling out boring paperwork and was walking away from the main counter.

Finally.

Lucifer turned to Zach and caught his gaze towards the Detective, a strange smile on his lips. He shook the Devil's hand again to say goodbye, giving him however a knowing look.

"Chloe Decker from L.A.P.D. I guess? I understand now your reaction when I've found you!"

He then walked away, quickly disappearing among the many sick people around them, leaving behind him a puzzled Lucifer.

"What did he mean by that?" asked Chloe who had managed to join him and thus heard the last odd words of his savior.

"I have no idea, Detective," said her partner as he was still looking where Zach had disappeared. "The Europeans have always been really strange people and it didn't go better over the centuries, you know. One day, I wa—"

"Great," she interrupted him quickly, shaking her keys under his nose. "So? Ready to go back to civilization?"

Moving away from the wall where he was leaning so far, Lucifer nodded and gave a bright smile to the Detective holding the keys of his freedom.

"I've been ready _for ages_ , Detective!"

* * *

 _ **TBC… " Aurora Insomnia "**_

* * *

 **Author's notes :**

What do you think about this story ? Let a review to tell me ^^

I'll publish in two weeks; maybe the first chapter of _**" Sous un nouveau jour "**_ (part 2 of _**"Une nécessité"**_ ) or the next chapter of _**" From Darkness arose the Light"**_ , I don't know yet. We'll see!

Thanks for reading me and until next time !


	3. Aurora Insomnia

**Author's notes:**

H _ere we go! I finally managed to come back on this story :)_

 _And I really can't wait to read/see your reactions with every chapter I'll give you X)_  
 _Ther_ _e'll be some, not for free I promise, but it's not a fluffy story._ _No smut (sorry to disappoint ^^) but the two partners are gonna go through a lot together, I can assure you._

 _And if you ever want to "see" the global content of the story, I propose you to go watch this video on youtube - "Dear God| Lucifer" from Knightvision1228_

 _So!_  
 _Biiiig chapter here - enjoy!_

* * *

 **AURORA INSOMNIA**

3

* * *

" _Samael!_ Samael, come back here, now!"

But the young cherub was already gone, roaring in laughter in response to the cries of an emotion very different from his own which resounded behind him. He skillfully avoided his brothers and sisters trying to block his way to a well-deserved freedom after hours and hours of boring lessons about his future divine duties, his frail but nevertheless glowing white wings helping him in his flight.

Cries and remonstrances followed him first and then passed him, touching his body curled up in a hiding place that no one knew but him. He quietly waited until these annoying sounds vanished into the huge halls next to the study room. He then left his hiding place and began running in a completely different direction; a corridor he hadn't walked through yet.

Now was the perfect time.

Time passed, given rhythm to his exclamations of wonder and his laugh echoing against the golden walls of this curious corridor. Every door he had met had resisted him, unimpressed by his chubby - but determined - hands pulling their silver handles with all their strength. He continued his exploration, systematically pulling the handle of each closed door he met. A few minutes passed before he stopped at the middle of the unfrequented corridor. He watched with increasing curiosity this diffuse light coming out from this single gaping door that was not far from him. The cherub walked silently toward it; the light was brushing the white floor and his bare feet; it was pleasantly warming up his skin. He came closer to the slight gap between the golden wall and the sparkling door.

He tilted his head and squinted as the light grew through the gap.

He wanted to see.

See what was hiding insi—

 **-** **xXx** **-**

* * *

Lucifer's eyes snapped open.

He sat up on the car seat as a deafening noise assaulted his ears. The cool breeze of the evening rushing into the car through the open window amplified the horn blast that awoke him. Caught off guard by this sudden din, Lucifer glared at the green car that passed them.

"Sleep well?"

He turned his gaze to his left and stared at the Detective, then frowning.

"I wasn't. I just— 'as resting my eyes, nothing more," he said, rubbing those eyes that were fighting the exhaustion.

He didn't need to sleep, that goes without saying. He was the Devil, tireless and thus couldn't sleep properly in his partner's car. How much his Corvette missed him right now…. His shoulders missed it the most, getting irritated with his wings covered in sand.

He couldn't even rub them against his seat, not while the Detective was watching. No need to worry her with this, too; was there?

No need, indeed.

The Devil who couldn't give in to temptation….

"Sure. That's a pretty good _rest_ with a full hour," she replied with a smirk.

"An hour, you say?"

Lucifer thought first that she was making fun of him, which wouldn't have been the first time, but his right shoulder was so stiff after having the Devil's weight on it that could definitely not be a lie. If there remained a few doubts, the vague shape of Los Angeles before them in the growing night made them disappear.

It reminded him of his dream.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked him, taking her eyes off the mostly quiet freeway for a second, giving him another concerned look.

How many times had she asked him this?

That being said, he was used to her concern about absolutely everything and everyone; still useless, still nonsensical. Him being her main concern was tiring, even after a full hour of sleep, as she told him. Lucifer would have preferred the silence and that she kept focus on the road, just like when they left the bathroom. It was better than talk and want explanations he clearly didn't have. None of them would had have what they wanted; she who wanted answers, he who wanted his memory back.

A specific one, though.

He couldn't remember when he had dreamed that clearly. It didn't really look like a dream, but rather like… a memory. So deeply buried in his mind for such a long period that it seemed almost new to him.

Almost.

Why would his childhood come in his dreams?

Lucifer couldn't care less about this part of his life. He did not bloody care.

"I am, Detective. I'm okay…" he told her, unwilling to give her an honest answer.

Something with him, with his mind, _wasn't_ okay.

And he still didn't know how or why.

Nor if he'd even find out.

Saying this aloud wouldn't change anything other than increase his foul mood and the Detective's concern that was already uncomfortable.

Chloe seemed satisfied to hear his answer and focused again on the road. He watched her briefly before that he looked through the open window, looking at the landscape. No _Yuccas_ here. It was hard for him to believe that Los Angeles missed him so much, although it was like he'd left town yesterday; not as long as the Detective told him. Nothing seemed to have changed since his unfortunate departure; still the same buildings contrasting with the dusk shades of the sky, still the same smells and sounds arising from the deepest desires of the men and the women living there.

He couldn't wait to go home, to find back with anything but filthy sand encrusted between his feathers which was annoyingly itchy. He couldn't wait to begin his investigation without having the Detective constantly watching him.

"You didn't tell me much about this long month without my delightful presence by your side," he said, looking at her.

"I didn't think it was that important for you. It is?"

"Of course, it is, Detective! I want to know if you took care of our dear citizens despite my absence. That's count double for the slight interesting event I missed since!" he exclaimed with a more cheerful tone.

"Well, I… Nothing really interesting happened si—" she started, avoiding his gaze.

"Just tell me anything crossing your mind; as long as it keeps me from thinking about the rest."

She looked at him. And Lucifer was the one who avoided her gaze this time.

He couldn't tell why but… feeling Chloe's gaze on him; this one in particular, he hated this. He hated what he saw in her eyes; this pity, the reflection of his own vulnerability that he knew he hadn't a slight inch of it.

He _wasn't_ vulnerable.

He _wasn't_ weak.

He refused to accept that. He refused to see this in _her_ eyes.

He sat up to appease that feeling inside him, barely succeeding.

"Trixie started taking piano lessons last week."

Lucifer frowned and stared at the Detective.

"Piano lessons, you say? I didn't notice that your offspring could play."

"She's only nine, Lucifer."

"So?" he asked. "Playing music skillfully isn't a matter of age, is it?"

"It is because she's too young to play skillfully already," she explained.

It seemed crystal clear to her while it wasn't to him.

"Why even play then?" Lucifer asked her, confused.

Chloe didn't answer immediately, watching the road and its possible dangers before finally shrugging.

"I guess she did it for you."

"For _me_?"

"I guess it's a way like another to not forget you and let you know, somehow, that you are always in her thoughts."

"I don't understand, Detective—"

But she cut him off.

"You were _gone_ , Lucifer. For a very long time. And Trixie likes you; you're her friend, like Maze and Ella are, so… children have their own ways to deal with loss, that's all."

Loss?

His absence couldn't have hurt anyone, could it? Piano lessons had nothing to do with this, though.

"I've lived long enough to know this world but taking piano lessons to deal with 'loss' - as you said - is bloody insane. Is that common to L.A. children?" he wondered.

"You haven't forgotten how to be an asshole, that's a start," replied the Detective.

"And what about you? Did you begin to play as well? Something else while I was gone?"

He stopped counting the cars that were passing them regularly, each of it tired of waiting for a faster and funnier drive from her partner and looked at her who shrugged again. She didn't talk, suddenly way too focused on the road to look truly quiet; which increased his curiosity. The Devil smirked and didn't take his eyes off his partner, knowing that it would annoy her.

"You know… I'd just have to ask to Maze, Detect—"

"I didn't have time to have fun, Lucifer! I've been busy with important stuff!" she exclaimed without taking her eyes off the road, her body expressing a tension that his partner didn't quite understand.

He scoffed.

"Fun is the most important stuff! What could be more important that this?"

" _Finding you_ was! _"_

She had almost shouted those two words in Lucifer's face, looking him in the eyes. A touch, a quick connection that amplified this emotion in her voice, body and eyes. He stared at her for a long time, speechless, another sensation inside him and much more uncomfortable than the sand between his divine feathers caused twinges in his belly.

Why did it hurt?

Why did he feel this piercing discomfort in his belly and that knot in his throat? Did it have something to do with his dehydration state? However, this particular dryness gripping his throat couldn't be quenched by any kind of liquid. He knew it and still couldn't tell why. The silence was only disturbed by a few horn blasts and the breeze rushing through the open window. Lucifer was still staring at the Detective's profile, deeply confused. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first; he didn't know what he wanted to answer to that.

"I—I... I didn't think tha— Why?"

"Why _what_?"

"Why did you look for me?" he finally managed to ask. "I thought you'd have taken my absence as another stampede... Why haven't you?"

She should have, here was the facts. It was logical. It wasn't the first time he broke his word, after all. He had broken it so many times that he wondered if the Devil's word could still have any value or be the symbol of unshakeable trust. Still, Lucifer wished to restore this trust between him and she; if not restore it, create a completely different one. A stronger, eternal new version of trust.

He wanted it. A month ago.

An important call. A truth he could no longer hide from her.

A truth, a chance that had been taken from him.

As much as he wanted to act in a bona fide way, he couldn't blame the Detective if she ever took wrong his behavior lately. He could understand that and was truly sorry for all this as well.

She should _have_ taken it that way.

Then... why didn't she?

Chloe hesitated, he could see it in every gesture and also on her face; looking at him before opening her mouth and finally enlighten him about her senseless reaction. But she never did; his partner's attention suddenly caught elsewhere above them, towards the sky.

"God…" Chloe whispered, looking up briefly. "What the hell is that?"

Intrigued, Lucifer looked up through the windshield, looking at the dark sky of L.A. For a long time he scrutinized the emerald-green lines going through the sky with interest until he reached a point where mortal - as supernatural - eyes could no longer see it.

An aurora borealis.

"It's beautiful," the Detective exclaimed beside him while he didn't take his eyes off the unprecedented phenomenon that suddenly appeared above them.

It was indeed beautiful.

But not only.

It awakened a very different feeling in Lucifer, though. A deep dark feeling that he couldn't, once again, fully explain. It was like a thought, a buried knowledge in the depths of his memory that he could barely touch.

"I've never seen this. Not here," Chloe continued beside him. "And you?"

"Not in Los Angeles, no," her partner answered distractedly. He was caught in a more thoughtful than admiring contemplation.

He saw this before, elsewhere... A long time ago. A _very_ long time ago.

 **-** **xXx** **-**

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Detective? You've heard this dear doctor just like me; I must _rest._ So, this is—"

"Stay right behind me and everything should be fine, Lucifer."

Hearing Chloe's teasing orders, he scowled at her as she walked without fear towards the front door of her place. As for him, he chose a much slower pace. He looked over the Detective's shoulder at the white wooden door sheltered beneath the stone alcove, cheap material but quite solid anyway. Near the door, the Detective took her keys and turned to her partner, sighing loudly when she saw him that far from her and that terrible door.

"You're being ridiculous, really. It's lucky that it won't kill you, though."

"Glad to see that you finally accept the truth. Still, you can never be too careful, can't you?"

He kept walking carefully towards her.

She put her key into the lock and opened slightly the door, smiling.

"Sure. But as the immortal Devil, you really have nothing to worr—" began Chloe.

She couldn't finish, though; a booming exclamation rising through the open door.

" _Lucifer!"_

Chloe stepped aside **,** just as surprised as her partner, as Trixie passed her mother without glancing at her and rushed at Lucifer who was caught off guard by this welcome and thus didn't have time to escape from it. The child was already on him, hugging his legs so tightly that his blood flow seemed to stop at the spot. He hissed and almost lost his balance before holding himself with the pillar to his right. Assured to not falling, he gave a dirty look to the Detective who was still standing near the door wide open and was trying to hide her mocking smile with her hand.

"You were saying, Detective?"

"I missed you so much, Lucifer!" exclaimed the offspring clinging to his legs like a leech. "Where have you been all this time?"

"You take the words right out of my mouth, kiddie," said another voice in front of him.

Lucifer lifted his head and met Mazikeen's piercing eyes. She was nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe, next to the Detective. An entire month couldn't change the depths of her unique nature, obviously. Always as beautiful, abrupt and threatening as in the first hours of her life.

"Let go of Lucifer, Trixie. He's… he's sick, okay?" Chloe asked to her daughter. "Give him some air."

"There's a lot of bruises on your face," noticed Trixie.

She reluctantly released him from her embrace, sounding sincerely concerned about his state of health.

"Did someone hurt you?"

Lucifer gave a questioning look to his partner before answering vaguely:

"Uhm... I fell several times, that's all. Don't worry, child; I'm fine."

He didn't like lying but knew that the truth wouldn't please the child nor her mother. And he wasn't really lying, these bruises could be a result of a physical aggression or something more brutal - like a fall; that was what the medical team said. Trixie seemed satisfied with his answer and stepped away from him with a big smile, bursting into the apartment. Lucifer glanced back at his former subordinate, who evidently showed no other emotion but anger. An anger he didn't know whom to blame for; himself, those who were responsible for his disappearance, or any other unknown reason. From his long experience, it might be himself.

Great.

The perfect place and the best people around to rest properly….

They all went inside without another word, Trixie literally jumping on her chair near the kitchen. Unwilling to suffer another interrogation about his absence, Lucifer turned to the Detective who was taking off her black jacket, putting it on the table near the door.

"Detective, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I'd really appreciate to getting rid of that bloody sand stuck inside my back door."

"Right. Yeah, sure. Make yourself at home. Well, I— I mean—"

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to walk around stark-naked, not with the offspring nearby. Where's—?"

"Upstairs, the first door on your left."

"Thanks."

He quickly climbed up the few steps between him and the upper floor, pleased to see that his body was following his orders much more obediently. Sleeping an hour wasn't that bad, after all. His muscles were still tense with every movement, but no more dizziness disturbed his balance. Finally, upstairs, he stopped and tried to catch his breath, walking then towards the Detective's bathroom. He turned on the light and hissed before the small size of the shower stall and the cheap shampoo available; no way he could clean his wings here. Not without flooding the room and maybe destroying the shower stall as well.

Hard luck.

Lucifer would have to wait to return to Lux, there he could clean them. The hot tub would be perfect for that.

He was unbuttoning his awful shirt when Mazikeen came in and quickly closed the door. She walked to him and pressed her blade against his chin.

"You have five seconds to tell me where the Hell you've been before I cut your tongue out," she threatened him.

"Is that your way to welcome an old friend, Maze?" he teased her, still busy unbuttoning his crumpled shirt, barely shaken by her knife.

She lost her temper and pressed her blade harder against his throat.

"Don't bullshit me, Lucifer! This isn't the first time you've vanished; you promised! You promised that you wouldn't leave without telling me first! How da—?!"

Annoyed, Lucifer threw his shirt on the ground and grabbed her hand holding the blade, easily pulling it away from his chin. He held her gaze.

"No, you; how _dare_ you doubt my word?" he said furiously. "I didn't leave, Maze! Not willingly!"

"I know," she confessed. "Chloe and I searched your trace at the parking lot; there were just your car keys left on the ground and… and blood."

"Then why—?"

"You just vanished. I couldn't even track your _aura_ on Earth…" the demon told him, putting her knife under her sweater. "I thought... I thought that y…."

Mazikeen became quiet and looked down. Lucifer swallowed, feeling uncomfortable with her confession. Annoyed to be once again responsible for hurting her. Now he understood the origin of her anger. No longer feeling his aura was the same to feel nothingness.

Death.

She thought he was _dead_. Gone for good from her existence.

And seeing him alive on the front door was as brutal and painful as the worst torture she had ever practiced in Hell. A bad joke.

She no longer felt his aura...

"Do it."

Mazikeen gave him a questioning look.

"Do what?"

"Feel me."

"Why would I?" she asked, frowning.

"This way, I might get more information about where I've been all this time," Lucifer said evasively, and he rubbed his chin, pensive. "I thought I was on Earth, but now that you told me this…."

"What's the point? You can't have been knocked out for a month, not without knowing where you were and who kept you prisoner! You're the Devil!"

"I don't remember, Maze!" he replied impatiently. "The Detective told you, didn't she?"

"Well... she didn't really get that chance. I— I smashed my phone against the wall when I heard that you were back," she said, shrugging. "Who could have kidnapped you away and take your memory away? One of yours?"

"I don't know. It might be, though. He must have something to do with my wings being back."

 _"What?!"_ exclaimed Mazikeen, taking him by the shoulders and making him turn to the shower stall and thus inspect his back.

She passed her hand on the divine joints hidden from everyone's eyes, Lucifer flinched as she pushed with her fingers some spots between his shoulder blades. Ask a demon to be gentle...

" _Ouch!_ Don't be so rough!" he protested, moving away from her deep inspection of himself.

"Baby," she replied. "Y—"

The door opened behind her, Chloe's voice echoing through the open space.

"Lucifer? What are yo—?"

She looked at Mazikeen and Lucifer, first surprised, then suspicion. Squinting, she totally opened the bathroom door, her hand on the handle.

"Please, tell me you weren't playing dirty in my bathroom!"

" _Our_ bathroom, Decker," only answered Mazikeen.

"You're the one who has dirty thoughts here, Detective!" added her partner with a smirk. "That being said, I'm your devoted Devil if you're up for a threeso—"

"Ugh... Shut up and take a damn shower, Lucifer," she interrupted him with a grimace of deep disgust.

"Care to join me in the process?"

Chloe rolled her eyes and went off, leaving the door open. Mazikeen shared a last look with Lucifer before leaving the bathroom, warning him that their discussion wasn't over.

"We'll talk later."

"Oh, I can't wait, " said the Devil with feigned joy.

Finally alone, Lucifer got rid of the last of his clothes and entered the shower stall, leaving his thoughts running down his body in a multitude of soothing drops.

 **-** **xXx** **-**

* * *

Except for some annoying questions from his partner's overjoyed offspring and Mazikeen's frequent dirty looks, Lucifer unexpectedly spent a pretty good evening at the Detective's house. What had been expected as well was he hadn't even thought about his actual and past problems until now.

A few hours of peace. In a way.

Who could have pretended to feel this way with a noisy child around? He had to listen to her talking over and over again; about her piano lessons, her strange drawings, her inexplicable games...

Lucifer couldn't hide his relief when Chloe told her spawn to get prepare for bedtime.

Exhausted, he had collapsed in his partner's couch and hadn't moved since, not until she called him from the kitchen. He moved his head back to it, giving her a questioning and reversed look.

"You're sure you don't mind sleeping on the couch tonight?" she asked for the third time in an hour.

Well, it wasn't like there was another choice here. No way he sleeps with Mazikeen or Beatrice; he had to sleep if he wanted to be free tomorrow morning. He had to start his investigation as quickly as possible with the help of the demon and his brother... Eventually. Sleeping with Chloe was tempting, but she would mind, wouldn't she?

"I can endure a night on your couch, Detective. You know where to find me if your bed seems a bit cold, right?" he reminded her one last time with a slight smile.

She smiled at him too and turned off the lights in the living room, except the one next to the couch.

"Good night, Lucifer."

"Good night," he said in turn, watching her disappear on the stairs partially plunged into darkness.

He lowered his head and stretched out as comfortably as possible on the couch, spreading the short blanket over him. The absence of noise and talk all around him awakened his main concerns in his tired mind far too quickly. Rubbing absentmindedly his shoulder, he thought back to Mazikeen's words.

Vanished from the surface of the Earth.

Where had he been held prisoner all this time?

In Hell?

No, he would have felt it one way or another. He didn't have the skills of Mazikeen for this, but he was nonetheless the Devil. Having quit from that role for five years couldn't change that _link_ between him and this terrible place.

It might be the Silver City.

It was a possibility, but he would be one hundred percent sure once Mazikeen would have felt his essence.

There might have traces, clues about what had happened to him in a month.

On him or elsewhere.

There might have….

 **\- xXx -**

* * *

 _Samael ? Come here…_

Lucifer looked around him, puzzled at only seeing an inscrutable darkness surrounding him.

"Hello? Who's this?"

His cry got lost in the shadows without receiving any kind of answer. He swore and turned to the right and left, then cursing to not see a damn thing around, to hear nothing but his jerky breathing.

Why was his heart beating so fast?

 _Samael, make sure to never leave it from your sight..._

He knew that voice. He was sure of it. Lucifer walked carefully into the darkness, then hurried his pace.

"Who are you?"

Still no answer. He paused, unable to say whether he had really advanced in a certain direction or run in circles into this endless shadow.

What the hell was going on here?!

" _ **Show yourself!"**_ he shouted, bored by the growing sensation inside him.

Was it fear?

 _Lucifer!_

This voice seemed different.

A woman?

He turned around quickly, taking a few steps back, confused. The darkness had given way to something else around him. Lucifer swallowed, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest, and walked cautiously to the center of this huge hall.

What was this place?

There were pillars. Gray, cracked by the wear of time, some broken, just pieces of rocks that were covered with a thin layer of frost.

Frost?

Lucifer shivered suddenly, the temperature tumbling down just as abruptly in this strange place frozen in time. Frozen in space. Freezing cold, he crossed his arms on his chest, frowning when he saw the frost on his black jacket, shining like a multitude of stars on the dark and expensive fabric. He took a deep breath and watched with the same surprise that mist coming out of his frozen lips.

Where was he? The North Pole?

Shivering from head to toe, he slowly walked along the abandoned hall.

He stopped after a while, looking at a part of wall that had its left end covered with ice. He came closer to it, intrigued by the signs engraved in the rock; a text in a forgotten language.

A language that was yet familiar to him.

He had already seen it somewhere.

Somewhere... but where exactly?

He felt a movement behind his back and instantly turned, on his guard. The pillars, the walls and the floor faded in front of him.

"Who's this?" he cried again.

 _Lucifer! MOVE! Come on!_

He jumped and moved away from the wall, walking backwards while watching with increasing fear the scenery slowly disappearing before him.

All of a sudden, a shadow cut through the growing darkness, gripping him with a strength he would never have suspected. He should have violently hit the ground beneath him, but nothing came. He and his indefinable assailant fell into the void, struggling fiercely against each other, both trapped in this embrace of unbearable speed.

Lucifer could feel his wings in his back beating the air to resist this fall, unable to support his weight and the shadow. It punched him in the face, pain exploding through his jaw. He groaned, pain mingling with the fear that almost kept him from breathing.

He was falling.

 _"Lucifer..."_

He was falling.

He was falling again.

No.

No.

No.

The hands of the shadow were constricting his temples, higher pain splitting his skull from the inside.

 _"Lucifer ... —ke up!"_

No, no, no.

He couldn't fall again.

No….

 _"Lucifer!"_

Lucifer's eyes snapped open and he struggled against the thin hands that were holding his wrists, panting. A moment passed before he was able to take notice of Chloe's face leaning toward his, Mazikeen leaning over the couch as well.

Distressed, he looked in turn the both women who were disheveled with sleep, the one they had left quickly. He held the Detective's wrist while her hand moved towards his face, still shaken.

What—?

" _Shhh..._ Lucifer, _Lucifer!_ Everything's fine; it's just me... Chloe, okay?" she whispered in the darkness, sit right next to him.

"C-Chloe?"

"It's me, yeah."

Lucifer stared at her without blinking for a long time, wondering in one corner of his mind why his body was shaking so much that he couldn't even control it. He could still feel that painful grip around his body and lungs, unable to breathe calmly. It was almost ridiculous.

What was happening to him?

"We heard you screaming," Chloe explained, her features tensed by sleep and concern. "I think you were having a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" he repeated, staring at an invisible spot over his partner's shoulder.

A cold sweat ran along his spine and he shuddered again, the Detective gently stroking his hand to appease him.

"Wanna talk about it?" she proposed, giving a knowing look at her roommate who went back to her bedroom, nonetheless watching one last time with concern the duo before disappearing upstairs.

Talk about it?

Lucifer tensed at the feeling of falling, the pain...

He shook his head, unable to speak and let go of her to pull the blanket over him, still unable to have a hold on those damn tremors. Chloe straightened up without a word and gently squeezed him shoulder to ask him to move a bit.

"Can I stay with you for a while?"

He did so without a word, upset by the feeling of panic that stuck to his skin and prevented him from talking with the Detective. This discomfort inside him persisted, and it didn't seem to wish to decrease.

The Devil frozen by a dream. A nightmare.

Quite a quirk of fate.

He was pathetic.

Chloe sat down and pushed him a bit to rest his head on her lap; which he did, still quiet. He should have said something clever; a salacious comment or else, but he could only shake against her knees, purged of the slightest heat. Trapped in that dreamy recollection.

Trapped in his own mind. In this painful fall he couldn't stop.

Being awake didn't work.

Lucifer felt Chloe's hand rub back and forth his hair, tracing circles and patterns in his black curls; untying each knot of fear one by one that were imprisoning his body and mind since he awoke.

They didn't talk.

She kept touching him and he allowed himself to slip into silence. Seeking the appeasement of his soul, awaiting the morning.

Lucifer closed his eyes after a while, his breathing following the movements along his skull; breathing in that peace that he couldn't find earlier.

Breathing away from this dream.

Far from this fall.

Far from any other kind of consciousness than this endless soft touch on his soul.

* * *

 _ **Tbc with**_ "Nothing sexual"

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

For the "tbc"; I chose to do like in the show - pick a sentence from the dialogues X)  
And I like doing this so muuuuuch :D

A big big big thank you to Kay_Kat who helped so much to improve my english writing! You R-O-C-K! 3  
And a big thank you to you all for reading my stuff guys :)

Leave a reveiw/follow/fav... as always!  
(working on "In a New Light" now). Let me know what you'd like to read next! ;)  
Oh and I'll repost the corrections for the previous chap as soon as possible!


	4. Nothing sexual

**Author's notes:**

 _Hello guys!_

 _Still busy with the Nano and other stuff, but I've got some free time to translate this chap and_ **Kay_Kat** _did a wonderful work by chexking it, like always (thanks 3)._

 _I also wanted to thank you for the great comments I had on the previous chapters; it's wonderful to see that you're thrilled as mush as I am about this adventure. I hope you'll love this new one!_

* * *

 **NOTHING SEXUAL**

4

* * *

Lucifer awakened slowly, feeling the Sun's rays on his face.

Anyone would think that this damned star had the only purpose to wake up mankind until the end of bloody time, but he wasn't a man. His own and very first creation should have been aware of that fact and get the hell away from his no-man face.

It could have started with his legs or hands, but no… of course, it didn't.

His face was the perfect area to insistently shine until its victims finally lifted their weak, plaintive eyelids. As bright as it may be, Lucifer was nevertheless determined not to open his eyes. He wasn't yet ready to leave the comforting darkness of sleep that clung desperately to his numb limbs.

Not after this short, albeit complicated night.

He tensed almost instantly, thinking back to the snatches of this dream that had been far too real to be a reasonable nightmare. The pain, the fear, this endless fall... all that had been far too realistic, like an indelible mark on his mind not willing to let him go; not even after waking up.

Besides the Sun's strong will to brighten every inch of his perfect face, Lucifer felt something else against his temples - a gentle touch. It calmed him rather quickly, it even made him forget the star that had been assaulting his features for quite some time now. He focused on this pleasant sensation. It felt good, caring somehow, and as light as a breath of wind.

This touch lingered for a moment, almost waiting for each of his limbs to totally relax to continue its way a little higher, into his black curls. He sighed with contentment and slightly turned his head to the side, giving free access to the rest of his dishevelled morning hair. It was as pleasant as a thorough massage of his wings, from the time he was still living at the Silver City, applying pressure on very sensitive spots which instantly relaxed any other physical tension nearby. He couldn't help but hope for the same ministrations for the muscles of his back.

Not using some of them, being unaware of their absence - which was rather unusual for his kind - for five long years… and now feeling them again, that was rough. Even though he hadn't used them to fly or anything else, his wings constantly reminded him they were back for good. His old unused muscles were finally awakening after a long lethargy, they were like fierce bears barely waking up too after winter. Truth be told, there wasn't real difference between celestial numbed muscles and the endless sensation of sharp blades inside his shoulder blades.

The touch kept going between his curls, passing back and forth to particular spots, slower this time. He found himself unable to control himself - in his defence, the numbness of his body didn't help - letting out a sound he hadn't expressed for millennia. It might sound like a catlike purring without really being one. Lucifer wasn't human; and even less related to the terrestrial bestiary, including these awful creatures. The Devil who was purring… a deplorable description. He _enjoyed_ \- with a very special devilish vocalise - these ministrations, that's all.

It briefly stopped after that, moving again, slowly.

"So… when are you guys gonna shag?"

It didn't take long for Lucifer to put a known name on this provocative tone; Mazikeen.

 _Excellent question._

"Maze!"

Ah, and there was the Detective.

By hearing her tone, Lucifer could easily picture her irritation that followed her roommate's words. It seemed that she was in front of him. The touch stopped once again, and it didn't take long for him to make the connection with Chloe and the past ministrations; it made him smile inside.

While the cat's away the mice will play. According to some human people.

 _My, my…. Tricky, are we, Detective?_

Still not wanting to open his eyes and leave the sweet realm of sleep, Lucifer restricted himself to this catlike role that was so detestable for so many reasons. He stayed still, half-asleep, on his partner's couch, more eager than he truly wanted to admit that these delightful strokes came back along his skin and hair.

"Just saying…" said Mazikeen, a crusty sound following her words. "I bet you never touch anyone like you're touching him now! And he never lets anyone touch him this way…. So, when are you gonna take the plunge, huh? 'Took you long enough to touch him already, 'm not gonna wait another century for you to spread your legs, Decker."

"Okay, first… there's nothing sexual about my touch here, Maze. And the way I touch people is none of your business, okay? Second; I'll never 'take the plunge'. Aaaand… I'm gonna ignore your last snarky comment."

 _What a shame!_

Mazikeen let out a deep sigh and Lucifer heard her move near the kitchen, coming closer to his makeshift bed. "Whatever you say, Decker. You dunno know what you're missing, though…. Plus, it'll help you to loosen up a bit."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need to loosen up anything."

"Said the one who hasn't slept properly for a month," replied the demon.

Lucifer barely held himself back from frowning, puzzled. Since the beginning of their partnership, he had never once heard the Detective complain of any lack of sleep. For having seen her snore for hours, wrapped in his sheets and as clothed as Eve was in the Garden; he knew for sure she was insensitive to this kind of trouble.

Just the opposite of him, it seemed.

"I-I had... some things to do, that's all," eluded Chloe with a sigh.

"Well, you can stop now that the 'thing' is back and purring leisurely right in front of you!"

Did Mazikeen just call him a... _thing?_ And had she just openly accused him of _purring?_

A brief silence followed Mazikeen's words who then exclaimed, "Oh, come on Decker! I'm not that blind! You just could have asked my help, y'know?"

"Sorry," Chloe sheepishly apologized. "It's just that… I didn't want to give you false hope. My latest research was quite unsuccessful, alright?"

"I wouldn't say that; he's back, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but not thanks to me. He just... appeared from nowhere! It's lucky that this tourist found him on the road, especially in his state."

Lucifer felt a longer stroke in his hair and along his temple, the Detective's fine fingers staying still to this precise spot. He could smell her scent, it was slight and yet heady, rising along his skin, imprinting itself in his mind. She smelled of paper. And something else. Something fresh, acidulous.

A scent as spicy as her temper could be sometimes.

Sometimes, systematically... endlessly.

He liked that scent, that soft touch against his skin and that sweetness in her voice.

"He'll get through this," Mazikeen comforted her. "He's been through worse, believe me."

She could, indeed.

Much worse.

"I hope so," said Chloe. She then pursued with a happier tone, leaning over him, her breath tickling the bridge of his nose. "Did you see his hair? He looks like a big rolled up hedgehog! It's funny to see him this... _dishevelled."_

"That's because you've never seen him otherwise. I assure you that it was much worse in Hell, without all his cosmetic products to bend his curls to his will…."

"And the way he holds the sheet is so cute; just like Trixie with Miss Alien."

Highly revolted by these degrading denominations and fluffy comparison, Lucifer opened his eyes and glared at the Detective sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

"I am not cute and even less like your spawn, Detective!" he grumbled, snappy.

Surprised, his partner moved backwards before pulling herself together and giving him a probing glance. "I thought you were asleep!"

"I was. I could hardly be any longer with your languorous strokes and boring chattering right above my face…." he replied; Chloe blushed instantly at his words.

Mazikeen gave a mocking exclamation and crossed her arms on her chest. "You didn't seem to be bothered."

She left the two partners alone and fairly embarrassed, walking briskly toward the kitchen. Lucifer avoided looking the Detective straight in the eye and threw the blanket off the other end of the couch. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, cursing against the long-lasting stiffness wrapped around his dorsal muscles. The rest of his body seemed more obedient than yesterday evening, still numb but reasonably docile.

"Feeling better?" Chloe asked, looking concerned.

"Strictly speaking, I never felt wrong."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. No more nightmares?" she continued.

None of which he could remember as clearly as the first one; it was probably a good thing. It was the first time that his mind drifted that roughly since he lived in LA. He wasn't used to nightmares. Not anymore, not since a few centuries. Angels weren't supposed to experience this kind of terrestrial phenomenon peculiar to Humanity. Dreams were the reflection of doubts, of guilt; of all these opposing emotions and impossible desires that any human being experienced some day.

But angels didn't.

Angels relied on one single thing, one notion, and never moved away from it; loyalty. They only thought of their mission, their duty and the best way to accomplish it and thus satisfy Him millennium after millennium.

Lucifer had first dreamed of her; Eve. He then saw that his life might have been without his Father's yoke on his shoulders. It was the first time he had experienced desire; this particular desire that even reason couldn't silence. Stronger than his duty, stronger than his loyalty and caring for his family.

The brutal drift of his thoughts - nightmares, as humans had named them - that happened much later.

Supplied with fear, remorse and wounds. There was no better place than Hell for such torture, after all. They had rarefied in the fullness of time, defeated by the relentless Devil's will to feel nothing more than a fierce hatred against his family, engulfing guilt and regrets in its path.

And now they came back again.

"Need an excuse to take advantage of my body, Detective?" he teased her, eluding her question again.

"Since I can't go against medical orders and just toss you out of my house, I'll also take that as a 'yes'. Hungry?"

"I'm famished!"

Chloe couldn't help but smile at his answer and looked at Mazikeen, admonishing her for throwing the utensils everywhere inside the kitchen. Lucifer listened absent-mindedly to the demon's unselfish response, seizing this opportunity to observe his partner sitting in front of him. Even wearing only cheap pyjamas with her left hair, untamed and shaggy, cascading down over her shoulders, she was undeniably beautiful.

But it wasn't these enjoyable details that caught the Devil's expert look.

He lingered longer on the shadows under her eyes. Under a detail in particular, a quite disturbing one.

Had she been awake all night, pushing aside her sleep for his?

He also stood up and followed her into the kitchen, taking a place on one of the high chairs at the left end of the breakfast bar, where Mazikeen was distractedly chewing rum soaked cereal.

"So, Mazikeen... what are your plans for today?" Lucifer asked with a smile.

She shrugged. Her eyes stubbornly drawn to the magazine before her. "I have some criminals to catch, bring their asses back to the precinct. 'Kind of bounty hunter stuff, y'know?"

"Fascinating! There's no doubt that you'll find these miscreants in record time," Lucifer complimented her on purpose. "And after you do, maybe you'll have some time left for me and that _scent_ , what do you say? Meeting at Lux would be more comfortable for both of us."

They shared a knowing look before Chloe turned to him, hitherto busy cooking a few slices of bacon releasing a very appetizing smell into the air. A simple fragrance that could almost have supplanted the one named earlier.

The Detective pointed her greasy spatula towards him. "I won't comment on your salacious metaphors; it's eight am," she said firmly. "But what makes you think that you're gonna go to Lux today? You were there yesterday when the doctor forbade you to move, weren't you?"

"For your information, there was nothing sexual in this little chat, Detective. Why would I hide my desires under well-phrased speech?"

"Right…."

"And the doctor didn't forbid me to move, technically."

"Because he clearly didn't know who he was dealing with," retorted Chloe. "You must _rest_ , Lucifer!"

"Is making a slight change of clothes going against this goal?" he complained, pulling on his crumpled shirttail. "There's no way that I go with you to the precinct with this get-up!"

Chloe rolled her eyes as she took a carafe of fruit juice in the fridge. She poured some of it into Mazikeen's bowl who didn't flinch, and into a glass she handed to Lucifer.

"Rest doesn't mean 'precinct'," she said, turning back to the stove. "Why don't you take some time just for yourself? You know... to get back on your feet and talk to someone about what happened to you, for instance."

"That's a great idea, Detective," Lucifer agreed. "Hence my urgent need to come back by your side and assist you! How to find my kidnappers and have a nice chat with them otherwise?"

It was obvious.

Maybe it was too early for human's brain; thus, she couldn't understand the merits of his reasoning. He took a sip of his drink, Mazikeen then getting up from her seat leaving bowl and dirty cutlery on the counter. She took her hobnail jacket from the couch and was stopped by her roommate before she crossed the doorstep. "Maze... remember what we said about dirty dishes?"

"Ah, yeah!"

Turning back, the demon took the bowl still on the counter to stop in front of the garbage can, throwing them into it before Chloe's expression dismayed while her partner's was amused. She then left to the front door.

"See you at Lux, Lucifer."

"Happy hunting, Maze!" Beatrice cheered her on by coming out of her bedroom, still in her pyjamas.

"Thanks, little human!" she said without turning around, leaving the door wide open behind her.

The Detective sighed deeply, walked wearily to the garbage can and got her dishes back from it, asking to her daughter at the same time, "Hey sweetie, can you close the door for me?"

The young child gladly did so and then sat on the chair next to Lucifer who looked at her worriedly, leaning to the side to avoid the slightest touch between them both, cautious. The terrible offspring didn't attempt anything rash against him, fortunately.

"Good morning, child."

"Morning, Lucifer. Mom, can I have some fruit juice, please?"

"Sure. Here, Monkey," answered Chloe, handing her a glass that Trixie took cautiously.

"Thanks."

The manoeuvre seemed arduous; although it would have been so much easier if the child had willingly dropped the cuddly toy in her arms. Chloe noticed the presence of the downy being under Beatrice's arm and gave her a slightly disapproving look. "That's weird… I thought we had an agreement, Mrs Alien and I. Wasn't she supposed to stay in your bedroom?"

Beatrice shrugged; claiming to have no power over the relative movements of the toy in question. "I told her, but—"

She seemed to hesitate.

"But?" her mother encouraged her, not caring about her partner's bewildered gaze.

"She heard Lucifer scream last night and— We both worry about him. So, she wanna make sure that he feels okay now."

Lucifer, first surprised to learn that he had been particularly expressive under the influence of this dream, didn't know how to react when he heard the rest of her explanations. He felt uncomfortable, without really understanding why. The similar anxiety - though more manifest than her mother's - that was possessing her brown eyes fixed on him possessed him in turn; words and incomprehensible apologies escaped him.

"My apologies, offspring. It w— it was nothing serious."

"You're sure? You sounded scared."

"Well…."

Lucifer looked at the Detective; begging for her help, an intervention that could have been called 'divine' if the denomination itself didn't make his hair stand on end. Chloe had listened to the short exchange without a word, smiling slightly until then. She placed one hand on her daughter's arm and tenderly stroked it. Beatrice seemed still concerned, if not upset about his vague answer.

"Lucifer had a nightmare, honey... but it's all right now. Right, Lucifer?"

"Absolutely."

Beatrice briefly thought of the words of the two adults. "But what if Lucifer has another nightmare?"

"I highly doubt that it will happen again, child," he protested with a friendly smile. "It only happened because I didn't have enough control over my body, that's all."

She frowned, sceptical. "You can't control dreams."

"Of course, I can!"

"How?"

"By watching out for them, I'll let my thoughts far away from that process."

Beatrice drank a long sip of fruit juice, staring at the Devil all along. Although his strategy was flawless, the child insisted on ignoring it and questioned him again. "And what if you're wrong?

"It never happened before, child."

These words provoked an exclamation from the Detective that he suspected to be teasing; she pretended not to listen to them, but he wasn't a sucker. She was listening; every word, every syllable. She was but didn't seem so willing to help him get out of a conversation with undoubtedly infantile bases.

"But what if you're wrong this time?" she insisted.

Lucifer had a long sigh, tired of this game. "About what?"

"Maybe that, to avoid having bad dreams again, you should know why you have them? What if you must stop trying to control your thoughts?"

"I—"

"Mom says that nightmares are useful... that they help us to understand what scares us, it helps us not to be afraid anymore."

"Well... it's an interesting theory, I must to admit. Your mother's imagination is fierce!"

With these words, Lucifer and Chloe exchanged a knowing glance that shaded for a moment all the annoying sides of their present and past situation. Beatrice nodded, smiling, and briefly studied the shapeless cuddly toy named 'Mrs. Alien' stuck under her left arm. Finally, she handed it to the Devil. "Keep her with you."

"Keep it? What for?"

"Mrs. Alien will protect you from nightmares if you're wrong," explained the child very quietly.

"That's really nice, Trixie-babe," Chloe praised her.

Lucifer opened and closed his mouth; caught like the fish he was miming by the mother and daughter's words. As odious as human children could be, he couldn't imagine refusing any favour to the Detective's offspring; even less to hurt her with a moderate or effusive refusal. Indirectly hurting her mother would only increase his actual torment.

Annoyed, distraught, trapped by this perfectly calculated mother-daughter complicity; Lucifer had no choice but to stretch his hand to the toy of a supposedly alien nature. Supernatural wasn't alien; perhaps should he explain this detail to Beatrice?

He coughed awkwardly, instead.

"Hm... thank you, child."

Beatrice smiled at him and accepted another glass of fruit juice when her mother proposed her one.

"When do we go, Detective?" Lucifer insisted after emptying his own glass, eyeing the delicious slices of meat over her shoulder while he put Mrs. Alien on the counter with one last wary look.

His innocent question provoked another sigh from his partner who turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "Lucifer, you're barely physically recovering and I'm not even talking about the rest—"

"The _rest?"_ he exclaimed, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"The nightmare," she clarified.

He laughed and offered her a smile, frowning. "Come one, It's just a dream. You can't stop me assisting you just because of one bloody dream, Detective!"

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she looked at her daughter and then her partner. She looked hesitant, not knowing how to say what she was thinking about all this, which seemed to her more important than what he might think himself. Whatever she had in thoughts, she was wrong, of course.

"Trixie-babe... what if you get ready for school, uh? I'll keep you some bacon," Chloe proposed to the little girl with a smile.

"Okay."

Beatrice came down from her seat and ran to her room, the Detective making sure that she was far away enough not to hear them before she spoke again. "It's not just about that, Lucifer."

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you…."

"You've been missing for weeks and, for one reason or another, you have no memory of what happened. Who knows what could have happened to you? I wanna find these men as much as you do, but... I need to be sure that you're feeling well enough to join me in the field, okay? And not only physically speaking."

Lucifer could hear Chloe's sincere and almost stifling concern behind these words of common sense again.

"I'm not _crazy_ , Detective," he thought it right to clarify.

"I know," she reassured him immediately, putting her hand on his. "I know you're not. I just want to make sure you're not going too fast. I'd hate that you make things worse for you…."

It was Lucifer's turn to sigh; of annoyance. "It is not by putting me in total isolation that things will get better. I've already lost a month... I have no intent on wasting any more time to find out the truth, Detective."

They quietly looked at each other for a moment, one waiting for the surrender of the other. Neither seemed to want to, both strongly believing the merits of their claim. Lucifer wouldn't bear another day to be a mere spectator of his existence, having for too long suffered brutal actions against him to seriously consider his partner's proposition. She who was convinced of his constant physical and mental weakness.

But he wasn't.

When would she understand? He was the Devil. He wasn't weak and had no need to be spared by anyone in this world.

 _ **"So... I'm coming over now to tell you the truth about me."**_

Hard to understand what we didn't know.

Chloe sighed softly before letting go of her hand and giving up that friendly wrestling match to pour the grilled bacon slices into the three plates on the counter. Once that was done, she put the pan on the stove and looked at her partner again, determined.

"Fine," she capitulated. "Let's make a deal, then. You'll be allowed to come back to the precinct - as a simple observer, that's all! _If, and only if,_ you talk to your therapist and get her consent to work with me. Deal?"

She handed him slice of bacon, waiting for his answer.

He thought about it for a moment, looking in turn at the Detective and the slice of bacon in her hand, finally stretching his own to grab it. "My my, you're a harsh business woman! Almost as harsh as the Devil himself! We have a deal, Detective."

* * *

Tbc - _'The eternal question'_

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

We'll see if our Devil is well enough in Linda's opinion ('not sure about that, are you? XD)  
Won't spoil you the fun, I promise!  
I started to translate the next chapter of "In a New Light", I'll propose you another vote for the next translation as soon as I'd finish with this one. Until then, feel free to leave reviews/fav/follow and read other great stuff here (like Kittendealer's, x-luniana-x's... Just saying! ^^)


	5. The eternal question

**Author's notes:**

 _As promised Navaros, the new chap!_

Music Advice :

Strange young world (Hidden Citizens & Ranya)

* * *

 **THE ETERNAL QUESTION**

5

* * *

 _"Home sweet home…_ " Lucifer recited as the elevator doors opened to his home.

A home whose owner's memories of it met with a rather unpleasant present. It was no longer the penthousehe knew, the one he had left a month earlier, looking for a solution for his Mother's uncontrollable powers.

An eternity; so to speak...

Would it have been a month ago, none of these white sheets would have dared to cover the furniture, no coat of dust would have stunk up his floor, nor the air. Just the opposite of its honoured resident who was pretending to be unaffected by this.

This quietude frozen in time, this heavy atmosphere that he rode roughshod over it….

It wasn't _him._

It was _them_. His Father, in all likelihood - those individuals whose identity remained unknown to him; those who had had the presumptuousness to attack him, to steal his memory. Stealing his life, home, his possessions...

"You okay?"

Lucifer turned to the Detective, sensing her constant concern for him in her gaze. He released the tension in his fists. His hands had subconsciously become fist when he had seen the languid state in which his penthouse had been stuck for weeks and weeks, just like his life. He nodded slightly and cleared his throat, burying all the rage burning him from the inside behind a smile.

The feeling could have been almost funny if not for the fact that it upset him so much.

He hated this feeling of helplessness.

However, he smiled.

He smiled even if he had one single thing in mind; to destroy every object that unfortunately was in this room, that no longer belonged to , only for a moment, that he controlled his existence. As he once vowed to himself. However, the intermittent pain between his shoulder blades quickly thwarted the idea.

"As okay as ever, Detective."

"Nobody has come here for some time given th— given what h— hm," she explained clumsily as he walked to the bar.

He put his hand on the marble and distractedly rubbed dust from the thin layer that had settled there over the past few weeks between his fingers. In a way, this dust reminded him of Hell. There was little difference between a greyish dirt and its hellish counterpart.

Dust and ash seemed to be on the same side...

Chloe took his prolonged silence for a reproach.

"I can stay and help you tidy up if you want?" she suggested hesitantly.

He looked at her; still worried, judging by the way she was rubbing her hands.

"I just need to let the precinct kn—"

"And deprive your colleagues of your insightful mind to find out the truth? Certainly not, Detective," Lucifer objected. "Besides, a little dust isn't going to defeat the Devil…. Go without fear, I'll meet you shortly."

 _"If_ your therapist agrees."

"She will," he said, confident.

"You're sure you're fine being alone here?" she asked again, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

"Afraid that I can't recall the location of my bedroom?" he teased her with a charming smile. "Want to refresh my memory, perhaps? I won't complain."

Chloe rolled her eyes and backed towards the elevator, pointing an inquisitive finger at him. "You can call me anytime, okay? And don't you dare to drink a single drop of alcohol in my absence! Can I trust you with this?"

"Of course you can, Detective," Lucifer said as she went into the elevator car and pushed the button. "I can behave when I want to!"

"That's right... when you _want_ to!" she replied with a smile before the doors closed on her for good.

Finally alone, Lucifer sighed and approached the bar again, which had been unused for far too took a bottle of Scotch and poured a reasonable quantity of it into a glass that was mostly spared from dust. Dust seemed to be the new owner here.

He wasn't breaking his word; there were a lot of drops of alcohol in the glass, not just one. More than he could even count, not that he wanted to. He closed his eyes and enjoyed its particular burning taste along his palate and throat. He drank the Scotch down in one go and grabbed the bottle again, pouring himself another glass with as much alcohol as it could contain.

Holding his glass in one hand, Lucifer used the other to slowly pull the dusty sheet that protected his piano. It fell gracefully to the ground, spreading a slightly suffocating cloud around the instrument. He waved his hand to clear the cloud and opened the black music stand, his fingertips drifting over the keys, barely ghosting the instrument which has been devoid of any melody for weeks.

This place needed to get a new lease of life, as much as he needed to control his own existence again.

His Father had to understand that he belonged to no one.

No one, if not himself.

Lucifer was briefly tempted to sit and play as long as he and the abandoned instrument needed it, but he felt an extremely unpleasant sensation in his back. The kind of feeling that would lead him to scratch his shoulders against any perpendicular support of the place, and fast. As much as he wanted to have five minutes peace, Lucifer refused to stoop to such practices. He then abandoned the idea of playing a bit with just his mind and Scotch as company; reluctantly heading for the balcony.

He placed his glass on the coffee table near the hot tub and turned it on, admiring the landscape in front of him. The city was barely waking up, nine AM being far too early for a city with such a strong taste for pleasure and entertainment.

Kind of like Lucifer.

This was one of the many reasons why he moved to LA and not elsewhere.

Vegas had its good sides, but LA had something more. Two identities. The frivolity of the day and a more complex, more dangerous essence, as soon as the Sun humbly submitted to the stars created with his hands.

Two faces for the city. A Devil with two faces... the perfect chemistry, right?

Lucifer unbuttoned his borrowed shirt, which he was happy to get rid of for good, just like the rest of his makeshift clothes. He shivered slightly when he felt the fresh morning breeze against his bare skin and submerged himself in the bubbling water of the hot tub without wasting any more time. The Devil let out a sigh of contentment and came closer to the edge, leaning against it with his arms crossed under his chin.

He let some time pass, seconds and minutes, before he could no longer bear the itch between his shoulder blades. He refused to use his wings, or even to display them to anyone. If he ever let them come, even only to find some peace, it would be like a servile acceptance of this parental present.

He could also rub his back against each wall of his penthouse without any guarantee of a significant improvement.

Grumbling his frustration, Lucifer rolled the muscles of his shoulders, spreading his all new sand-filled wings.

"Don't get ahead of Yourself..." Lucifer groused with a glare towards the cloudless sky.

This was not him giving his approval. Let it be said to His Father.

He leaned forward and as far as he could to completely immerse these celestial protuberances. He shuddered as he felt the warm water seeping between each of his feathers, each one of them enduring a quite unpleasant stiffness due to his journey in the Mojave's desert and their frail youthfulness. A few minutes or so immersed were nevertheless enough to overcome the tension lurking throughout his body, his agitated thoughts then giving up the fight thanks to the skilled eddies and swirls all around him.

He sighed his relief without being embarrassed.

"Better... 'uch better," he whispered, pressing his cheek against his arm, his eyes closing on their own.

He stayed like this, slumped on the edge of the hot tub, rocked by his regular breathing and the warm bubbles rubbing every inch of his roughed up body, rubbing every feathery element from the massive divine plumage between his shoulders.

 _Lucifer…._

He snapped his eyes open, taken off guard. He straightened up a bit and looked over his shoulder, his wings instinctively reacting to the tension that had spread to his body as they spread in his back as well. This caused a brutal shock wave, a lot of water splashing onto the terrace floor.

Lucifer looked around him with wide eyes, panting.

There was no one here.

He was alone.

"Bloody voices..." he muttered.

He was tired of hearing them, tired of having to endure them without seeing the slightest solution to make them disappear once and for all.

Silence, that was all he asked. Was that too much?

Yet this voice was different from all the whispers he had heard when he woke up and wandered chaotically through the desert. It was clear, almost _real_. As if this person - this woman, obviously - had whispered the frightened plea in his ear.

Frightened.

This voice, this female intonation seemed... _frightened_.

It strangely sounded like the one in his dream. 'A nightmare' the Detective would have called it if she had been here with him, stubborn as she was on some things. And Lucifer would have reaffirmed the opposite. A singular dream, wearer of an enigmatic voice that was now whispering sweet words to him.

It wasn't something new to him and never complained about satisfying some, but this one….

His hand squeezed the edge of the hot tub as he looked further into the deserted terrace, puzzled.

So, what was the meaning of this?

His Father had never been particularly good at communication, was He trying to talk to him with these voices or—?

What did He want to tell him?

Why did he feel strangely uncomfortable - almost worried about this unreal speaker - by hearing that particular voice?

As much as he questioned himself, Lucifer stayed at the same spot than before, than usual - a no answers' land, so to speak. So to wonder.

 **-xXx-**

* * *

"Why bring me here, Maze? I have more important things to do than follow you around like an obedient lamb!"

"You'd already know if you'd just stop crying like a baby!"

Lucifer, newly shaved and decently dressed - at least for his bottom half - shut the drawer of his dresser when he heard Amenadiel's blunt tone and the biting retort of the demon, heading towards the marble stairs separating his bedroom from the living room.

"I am _not_ a baby!"

Putting his purple shirt on, Lucifer quickly stepped down the few steps, welcoming the newcomers with an annoyed intonation. " _Ah!_ Mazikeen! I thought meeting you here hours ago... your tracker skills are quite under par! And I don't remember allowing you to come with someone. Although the penthouse would really need to be cleaned from top to bottom..."

Looking at his cufflinks that were quite uncooperative under his fingers, he was only half-listening to Mazikeen's explanations.

"You'd inform him from your return at one point or another, wouldn't you?" she said.

"L-Luci?" his elder brother spluttered.

There was surprise in his voice, which Lucifer didn't fully understand.

His brother's arms imprisoned him shortly afterwards in a stifling embrace. As much surprised than Amenadiel had seemed, Lucifer winced and only reacted to it when his hand approached the sensitive area between his shoulder blades. Wincing again, the Devil squirmed between his arms to free himself. "Mfm…. Careful, brother! You're not holding a sword here, but an exceptional being with expensive outfit."

Amenadiel finally released him, placing his hands on his shoulders. He let out a trembling exclamation while looking at his brother with a disbelieving expression cradled with relief.

He then smiled at him. "You're here... you're _really_ here!"

"What have you done to him, Mazikeen?" the Devil asked her, frowning. "You punched him too hard, didn't you?"

The demon's answer was barely a shrug. She walked towards the bar, getting rid of her hobnail jacket and throwing it on one of the seats.

"How... when did you come back?" continued Amenadiel. "Everyone was worried sick!"

" _Worried?_ Come now, you're going to make me cry!" Lucifer replied by pulling his cuffs. "I'm the Devil, nothing bad can happen to me, remember?"

"You vanished into thin air for a whole month and you're saying that 'nothing bad' can happen to you?! We had no news from you nor Mom! I tried to call you many times without getting an answer!"

Amenadiel seemed deeply annoyed by his brother's attitude, who then rolled his eyes and began to button his shirt properly. But the retired divine fury chose this timing to suddenly moved his shirttail aside. Lucifer sighed loudly as his brother's horrified stare stayed much longer than he liked at the large bruise on his side.

"For G—! What happened to you, Luci?"

"That's the eternal question, brother," Lucifer replied bitterly, impatiently pushing his hand away.

He glared at him. "What the hell happened to... well, to Hell's Ruler?"

Lucifer walked away from his brother and finished buttoning his shirt before picking up his glass from the coffee table; Amenadiel looked more perplexed than before, if that were possible. "I don't understand."

"Right. I always forget these narrative details that are the fundamental pillars of a real conundrums to solve…. My amnesia must be more serious than I thought. Although I still remember your stupidity, Am! So it's not that bad, is it?"

"Amnesia?"

"He can't remember what happened to him," Mazikeen broadly explained, still sitting near the bar with a drink in hand.

 _"What?_ But— and what about Mom? The Flaming Sword?" asked Amenadiel in a confused tone.

Lucifer emptied his glass and sighed again.

"Very well," he resigned himself by sitting on the couch after removing the white sheet on it.

"Might as well start from the beginning. So... after you told me where the damn necklace was, I went to the beach where Mum was waiting for me with the Doucheand Chloe. I'll skip boring details, but I ignited the Flaming Sword and sent our beloved Mother into another universe. I threw the Sword right after her to avoid further problems and then the breach closed. I saw Linda at the hospital, someone hit me from behind and I woke up three days ago in the desert with my wings back and not the slightest memory of the last month; except for these few scratches…. Can we keep up now?"

Probably not, judging by his eldest brother's dumbfounded expression.

"Mom's gone?" repeated Amenadiel.

"What? Haven't noticed this tiny detail, hm?" Lucifer mocked him.

Amenadiel lost his temper, hands on his hips. "And how would I, Lucifer?! You both disappeared! All we knew, Maze and I, was that you went to the hospital and then... nothing! You could have been back to the Silver City with her in the meantime! Or she could have struck you out as well... We were all aware of her determination, right?"

After getting his anger off his chest, Amenadiel caught his breath, frowning and exclaiming even louder, "And you have your wings back?!"

Lucifer shook his head as he stared at his brother with barely restrained pity. He turned to Mazikeen who kept quiet until then. " May I ask what you had in mind by bringing him here?"

"Just for fun," Mazikeen replied with a smirk.

"How did you manage to get your wings back?" continued Amenadiel, feeling unconcerned.

"Well, it seems that being kidnapped and left for dead in the desert a month later is the best way!I'm surprised you haven't tried it yet! **"** retorted Lucifer annoyingly. "Now, if we could get down to business, Maze? I have an appointment."

 _"Business?_ What are you talking about?" Amenadiel asked, looking in turn at Lucifer and Mazikeen, intrigued.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Am'," Lucifer lectured him in a falsely serious tone when he got up. "Just watch and learn, will you? _Quietly,_ thank you very much."

As usual, Amenadiel was reluctant to obey, but refrained from making any unnecessary comments. Just this once won't hurt, he knew sometimes how to show common sense and maturity when the situation required it. The demon drank the content of her glass down in one-go and walked towards her former master, waving her long brown hair over her shoulder.

Both face to face, she gently took his face between her hands and sealed their lips with a kiss that was much less eager than any they had ever shared before. The clear disgust that Amenadiel showed then didn't escape Lucifer who chose to ignore it. He shut his eyes and tried to remain still.

This practicing was odious.

The act in itself might look pleasant to anyone but him and Mazikeen; it was just a _kiss_. A chaste kiss, moreover.

But appearances could be deceptive, _were_ deceptive.

Lucifer's body stiffened as he felt the typical bite against his palate, this burn... this grip as cold as ice that paralyzed his nerves and rushed into his throat; searching, intruding everywhere in search of an answer that had never ceased to escape him, as much with this supernatural hunt.

The kiss didn't last more than a few seconds.

Mazikeen backed away, keeping her eyes shut and her mouth half-open. Lucifer watched the diaphanous filament that was coming out of his own lips, sucked in by the demon's before him. It was similar to various scarlet curls interlaced into a thicker filament that was endlessly swallowed by her insatiable mouth. A few more seconds and the tension in Lucifer's limbs grew as the phenomenon reduced, almost engulfed in its entirety. A stronger bite assaulted every nerve in his body, and he stepped back, groaning with discomfort.

Mazikeen didn't, swallowing the last red curls before sealing her lips, her outstretched hands still outlining the shape of his face.

Amenadiel approached his brother, worried. Lucifer outstretched his hand towards him, asking him to stay quiet and right where he was. A muscular comforting embrace was the last thing he needed.

"Well, Maze?" he asked impatiently.

She shivered from head to toe before opening her eyes, a puzzled expression on her face. "I don't know."

Her answer didn't help him to stay calm. "I would appreciate more details from you."

"It's... difficult to decipher, Lucifer."

"Yeah, but still?"

"There's something divine for sure, but—"

 _"Aha!"_ he interrupted her, triumphant. "See, Am? Father is never far away to impose me His pathetic plans!"

"It can't be as simple as you think, Luci," said his brother with conviction.

Lucifer's triumphant expression quickly darkened.

Of course he'd be on that Bastard's side….

"Oh right, I forgot this _favourite son_ bullshit!" he mocked. "Too afraid of hurting _Dad's feelings_ and no longer have His favours, Am? Remind me again what was His last glorious favour for you, hm? Not missing your wings, are you?"

"I deserved this sanction."

"Sure you did…. And I _deserved_ what's happening to me, didn't I?"

Lucifer slowly approached Amenadiel, almost forgetting his desire of answers and Mazikeen's presence nearby. This ocean of questions, that was kept him drowning, sinking even deeper under all new ones, had drained what was left from his usual patience and composure.

"Everything is always deserved when it comes from Him, hm?! I prevented Mum from destroying Earth, from destroying _Him…_ Him and each one of our siblings in a celestial war! I saved HisDivine Arse and did He even thank me for it?! Of course not! Better kidnap the Devil, steal his memories from him and leave him half-naked and winged in the middle of the bloody desert!"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Lucifer was now face to face with his brother, frothing with rage, Amenadiel's quiet expression irritated him beyond reason.

He had done everything in his power to avoid an unnecessary war, unnecessary victims and this was what he got in return?! His life, his memory... stolen? Lucifer was tired of feeling this helplessness, the feeling kept sticking to his skin. He couldn't control, couldn't decide.

He had enough.

"There's something else," Mazikeen said.

He turned around and waited for her to say more, in vain. Of course... There was probably some kind of secret code to activate something as primary as a spontaneous response. His anger alone wasn't enough. _"What?"_

"Can't tell exactly. It looks like... something old, very old and... not safe."

"What do you bloody mean?"

"Hell is child's play in comparison, that's what I mean," she replied with a glare. " It's a cold power that I've never felt before. From a place I've never visited before and you know they're only rare ones in that case."

Cold.

The vision of a hall covered by frost briefly crossed his mind. "Does this _basic_ description sound familiar to you, Am?" Lucifer asked just in case.

"Not really, no."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed as he walked towards the bar, determined to drown these new questions under any available alcohol. "We're back to square one, not that I really feel like I've left it…."

The silence raised inside the room and was only filled from time to time by Lucifer's deep sighs and the continuous flow of alcohol in his glass, which was always too empty for his taste.

"What are your plans?" his brother finally asked.

Lucifer didn't move from the bar, filling his glass for the umpteenth time. He shrugged. "I'm gonna pick up where I left off a month ago, I suppose. Back then, I was about to reveal the truth to the Detective. Once it's done, she might help me to find out what happened to me, who knows? She'll be way more effective than you both…."

"You can't do this!" Mazikeen suddenly burst out.

He smiled. "Can't I, now?"

"I almost lost Linda because you're a selfish bastard! 'm not gonna let that happen with Decker girls!"

"You only lost her for a few days, don't be silly!"

"She almost died because of you!" shouted the demon, pointing at him, her voice slightly shaking with the emotion she was feeling.

 _"My_ fault?" exclaimed Lucifer, stunned.

"You wouldn't have been a selfish prick, Linda wouldn't have known your plans about _Mama Bitch._ And that bitchwouldn't have attacked her like she did! You know it's true!"

"She's right, Luci," Amenadiel told him.

He then looked at Mazikeen.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, infuriated. "Oh, Blood—!"

"Briefing humans about our true nature... it never ends well for them," his brother calmly explained, looking at him in turn. "It doesn't end well for anyone. Look what happened to Linda, what could have happened to Chloe at the beach that day…."

Lucifer was about to retort, but didn't at least. Deep down, he knew that nothing would have happened to Chloe if he hadn't persisted in staying close to her. What would happen to her if she ever discovered the whole truth about them, about _him_?

He still didn't know who was after him. He didn't know how far His _Loving Dad_ might be involved here, nor the extent of the unsafety detail around that mysterious place, as much unknown to him - the Devil - than to who were too close to him rarely had this happy ending so often told in terrestrial books and television series.

But he thought about that night, he couldn't turn away from it.

He shook his head. "I gave her my word, Amenadiel. I can't go back on it."

"Is your word more important than her life? Her safety?"

Lucifer remained silent.

He looked intensely at the contents of his glass, unable to decide.

Did he only have these two choices?

Lying to Chloe by omitting the truth to preserve her life? Or... keep his word, no matter the consequences?

One or the other... the result was odious.

* * *

 **Tbc** — 'Easy as Devil'

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

I hope you liked it! :)

Feel free to let a reviews/ follow/fav as always.

And thanks again for your help **Kay_Kat** You rock, girl!


	6. Easy as Devil

**Author's notes:**

 _Here I am with another (betaed - thanks for that_ **Kay_Kat)** _chapter. :)_  
 _Not as long as the previous one but with funny moments and deep talk about Lucifer disappearance (I smiled a lot when I wrote this chapter, really)._  
 _Let's hope you'll smile a lot as well ;)_

* * *

 **EASY AS DEVIL**

6

* * *

As soon as he passed the threshold of Linda's office, Lucifer felt oddly more relaxed than he had been since his 'return'. He was pleased to find this familiar place again, and was eager to get what he needed; although he wouldn't let himself be stopped by any refusal. Whether his therapist allowed him to assist the Detective or not, his conundrum was too important to be delayed any longer.

However, knowing his partner's temper, it was better to do as she asked. Her request was quite reasonable moreover, given his situation.

 _A deal is a deal._

And if she only needed this to put her concerned mind at rest, if that was what he had to do to then lay his hands on his - divine, or not - kidnappers... accept a little sacrifice of time and common sense wasn't the end of the world, was it? Besides, although Amenadiel had been very reluctant to admit that his kidnapping was linked to some divine interventions, he was already on his way to Yuccah Valley and - as Lucifer hoped - to answers. Mazikeen's sense of smell would speed up the research.

Still, Lucifer had plenty of time for Linda before he had to get down to business as well.

He mechanically rubbed his sleeve to remove some unwanted folds in the fabric and opened the door that led to his therapist's office. She was turning her back to him, putting some files in place while being careful not to fall from her seat. Lucifer was relieved to find her healthy enough to test her balance on an untrustworthy chair, but the painful picture of his friend lying in a hospital bed nevertheless crossed his mind, for a second.

At least hadn't he _forgotten_ this episode of his life.

He wished he had.

"I only see patients by appointment," she announced straightaway, not even turning around as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the top of the shelf.

Not in the least discouraged, Lucifer walked in and noticed something that brought a smile to his face. He took a decorative ball in hand, squeezing it in his palm, his nostalgic smile widening. "Finally something that hasn't changed!" he exclaimed, delighted.

Linda let out a cry of surprise and lost her balance. With just one hand, she held on to the shelf. Several folders fell at the bottom of the chair as she stared at the Devil, still playing with her balls near the open door.

" _Lucifer?!_ But—!"

"Need a hand, Doctor?" he inquired, worried to see her cling on to the furniture like she did. "We wouldn't want to send you back to the hospital so soon, would we?"

"I... I-I'm good."

She cautiously climbed down from her seat and smoothed out the front of her fitted black dress before walking towards him. Lucifer didn't have time to pronounce another syllable before Linda took him in her arms and hugged him tightly. He felt uncomfortable and rather annoyed by this strange behaviour that seemed to have touched every man and woman he had met since his return in town. He remained perfectly still, tensed up in her embrace from second to second; waiting for her to stop and come back to her senses.

"So much for my suit, I guess…" he mumbled with growing irritation.

"Lucifer, it's— " she said, backing away, her eyes shining slightly. "You're _here!_ "

She uttered these three words with so much wonder that it worried him. He stared at her, frowning. "Of course I'm _here,_ Doctor! Who do you think you're squeezing like a snake, hm? The Pope? That being said, I've never been mistaken for him."

"What? No, I-I mean…. Where have you been all this time?"

"That's the question that keeps tormenting me twenty-four hours a day," he sighed, annoyed to hear it once more and still not getting answers.

Linda looked puzzled. "I don't understand," she said.

"I'd gladly give you some details if you would be kind enough to let me go?" Lucifer asked with a tense smile.

His gaze then lingered deliberately on her hands that were still squeezing his shoulders tightly.

"Ow!Sure, sorry!"

Lucifer let out a relieved sigh as soon as she let him go, smoothing the expensive fabric of his jacket for the second time. He sat on the couch; Linda sat in front of him, joining her hands on her lap.

"Does Chloe know you're here?" she asked straight away, more curious than professional.

"Of course she does! I'm sitting right here because she does, actually."

"Because of her?"

"Well, she's convinced that I'm not ready yet to join her in the field, although I am and that I need to find out who kidnapped me. She won't let me, not until you assure her that it's safe for me, which is obviously the case, isn't it?"

Linda stared at him, not convinced.

"Why does she care that much about my opinion?"

"Who knows…" he eluded, his arm leaning against the rigid back of the sofa.

"I don't; but you do," his therapist teased him skilfully, smiling slightly. "Let's begin with the beginning, shall we?"

Lucifer sighed, tired of explaining what had happened to him; it never led to anything useful, neither in his investigation nor in helping him get his stolen memories back.

"It's pointless, but if you insist…. The beginning, hm?" he repeated thoughtfully. "After I left you that night, I had made my decision about the Detective - I wanted her to see the truth about me, the real me."

"Really? After all this time…. What made you change your mind?"

"She did; also, you did and Mum…." he said, joining his hands in his lap. "There were so many reasons, I have as many of them not to tell her now."

"So you didn't tell her that night? Why didn't you?"

"Because someone stopped me, Doctor."

" _Someone?_ Are you talking about your kidnapper?" asked Linda.

"Ah,so you've heard about my kidnapping? All the better, it'll save us a lot of time! Would you mind if we skip the rest and come to my reassign— ?"

She lifted her hand to interrupt him. "Hold on a second, Lucifer. Not too fast, okay? You really think I didn't know anything about your disappearance?"

"Well, it's not that important, is it?" he answered, surprised by her question.

It was a useless question, actually.

It was obvious to him that the only people aware of his kidnapping were the Detective and Mazikeen. Maybe his brother too, but no one else would really care about his long disappearance. Although his partner's caring had been due to her anger, it had to look like he'd vanished for fun and Candy's support again. Mazikeen wasn't outdone with her selfish desire not to be left aside. As for his brother, he only sought answers about his own eventual divine redemption and their Mother's fate.

As much as Amenadiel's surprised expression, Lucifer didn't understand Linda's. Both stared at each other.

"Of course it is, Lucifer. I care about you, not just because it's my job to care, but because you're my _friend_. Everyone has been really worried about you!"

He laughed.

"Oh come now! Don't start getting emotional for this short disappearance. Let's get to the point, shall we? The Detective's waiting for me at the precinct," he cut her off, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "You must tell her that I'm 'fine'!"

Linda didn't insist on the emotional part and immediately picked up on his last words. "Why would she think otherwise?"

"You know how humans are to be one yourself. She doubts that I'm in the condition to deal with 'life in general' after I've been left for dead in the desert without the slightest memory of the previous weeks; stupid, isn't it?"

Of course, it was. Linda's expression seemed nevertheless to be more in favour of his partner's crazy fancies. She opened her mouth while fingering the fabric of her dress.

"It's really far from 'fine' to me, Lucifer. You don't remember anything? Like… anything anything?" she insisted, leaning slightly towards him.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, his gaze wandering on the coffee table in front of him. "Nothing precise."

"Can you tell me what's the last thing you clearly remember?"

"I was calling the Detective, I told her I didn't want to hide from her any longer and then… then there was someone behind me."

"Was it someone you knew?"

"It's hard to say really, he - or she - knocked me out before I could turn around."

"How is it possible? Was the Detective close to you or...?"

"I don't think so, but I would appreciate an answer. If she wasn't there, there's not many possibilities left about my kidnappers' identity; barely one."

"What do you mean?"

"My Father, of course!" Lucifer told her, shaking his head. "Who else could it be?"

He let out a bitter exclamation and looked at his therapist, looking for any physical disturbances that might have altered her mental faculties and, therefore, her ability to make deductions.

Even a child would have guessed his Father's doing about his kidnapping. Why was he the only one able to see through His play? Why didn't Mazikeen and Amenadiel, why didn't the Detective?

And now Linda joined them in their doubt and illusions.

She looked at him, perplexed. "How can you be so sure it's Him, Lucifer?"

"Well, beside the fact that I was abandoned in the middle of nowhere with less memories than I should have, you mean? I don't see anyone else who can give me my wings back."

"Your wings?!" she sounded surprised.

With an almost imperceptible gesture for human eyes, Lucifer reluctantly revealed the appendages that His Father had given him. Seeing angel's wings would undoubtedly disturb Linda less than his true face had; he hoped it would, at least. His long feathers brushed the back of the couch where he was sitting, Lucifer leaning slightly forward to spare enough space for their extent. They were far larger than the couch, thus Lucifer had no choice but to keep them partially folded in order to avoid breaking vases and windows in the room.

Although the manoeuvre was bloody irritating, it wasn't completely useless.

Even though the Detective and Linda had doubts about it; Lucifer was fine. He had regained most of his strength the moment Chloe had left his penthouse and the systematic tension following his wings extension in terrestrial plane was almost minimal now. Nothing he couldn't deal with.

How exhausted he might still fell, his bruises…. There were little details in his quest for truth.

 _"Oh my—"_ exclaimed Linda, jumping from her seat that fell backward.

Noticing her patient's glare on her, she ended at the very last moment, _"—Devil!_ This is _..._ You have wings! Huge and white wings a-and…. You look like a swan," she then said in a very serious tone, watching the wings over his shoulder.

"I beg your pardon?! I am not a swan!" Lucifer, in his outrage, tucked them away, making them disappear from this plane.

"They're really, really _white_ …" His therapist whispered absent-mindedly, still staring blankly at the precise spot where they had just vanished.

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer snapped his fingers to bring Linda to his actual problem, deeply annoyed by her reaction. They weren't something good, something marvelous to watch like she just did - they were 'manipulation' for him.

"Focus, Doctor!"

She jumped slightly and confusion replaced wonder.

"Right, sorry! Okay, so... God would have returned your wings to you after kidnapping you?" she tried to summarize as she put her chair back in place.

"You forget my stolen memory," added Lucifer.

"Can He actually do that?"

"Of course He can; He's God!"

"But why would Hedo that?" Linda wondered.

"This is a question I'd gladly answer. But I won't be able to if you don't convince the Detective that I can join her in the field. This way, I'll find My Father's soldiers and I'll ask them nicely why they did this to me. It won't take a month, I hope."

"You still haven't told me why Chloe was reluctant to let you go back to work with her," she then reminded him, still as skilful as ever to lead the conversation where she wanted when he didn't.

"Well, there are… some things happened since I came back; she saw them as weakness, I suppose?" he answered quickly, averting her gaze. "It isn't."

"What are those 'things'?" she insisted, stubborn.

He kept quiet, hesitant.

"I won't be able to help you if you keep quiet, Lucifer."

A second passed, followed by another; before he took the decision to tell these odd phenomena that appeared shortly after his awakening in the desert.

"I— I hear voices. And there was this nightmare last night…."

"Tell me about it," Linda asked him with a comforting smile.

He leaned forward and rubbed his hands, his brow furrowed while he thought back about it. "I was somewhere."

"Somewhere you knew?"

"No; it was cold, bloody freezing and... I heard that voice. She sounded terrified."

" _She?"_

"Yes, it was a woman. Her voice was distorted, but it clearly sounded like a female intonation.

"What did she say?"

He frowned, struggling to remember the words shouted in the darkness he had been trapped in. Cold sweat ran along his back.

 _Lucifer! MOVE! Come on!_

"She told me to run away."

Running away…. Why should he?

Feeling oddly uncomfortable, Lucifer sat up abruptly; moving away from the couch and, by doing so, from Linda's embarrassing questions.

"It's bloody pointless!"

"What?"

"Talking about my dreams won't help me to get my memory back!" he exclaimed.

He hated this feeling of helplessness that continued to grow within him since his return.

"I disagree. Dreams are doors that lead to our subconscious, Lucifer. This is where your memories hide. Tell me about those voices you hear; when do they show up?"

"I can't tell. It's— I heard the first ones when I touched my head injury. Also, when I checked my wounds in the hospital. They come and go for the rest of the time."

"See? That's a start."

"A start?"

"Yes; these voices, your nightmare... It's your subconscious speaking to you, sharing bit by bit of your lost memory with you. See?"

He turned to face her, stopping by the window to listen distractedly at her senseless explanations. "I don't need _bits_ , I need the whole damn thing, Doctor. The faster the better!"

"Alright, you can't force your mind to repair itself from this trauma, Lucifer. That's not how things work," said Linda, shaking her head. "The mind needs to be gradually stimulated; with objects, people around you, with situations - those may bring other memories and then— "

Stimulation?

A smile grew on his lips and he walked towards Linda, thinking aloud. "I see…." he said, delighted.

"You do?"

"I need to stimulate my mind!"

"That is correct, but— "

"All I need to do is to find proper situations to get these memories back and _voila!"_ he continued, giving a satisfied smile to his therapist who sighed softly.

"…but you don't. Lucifer, this isn't w—"

"I won't find it back by wandering in Lux, you're right. I must solve as much cases as I can get with the Detective…. No, even better; putting my life in danger should do the trick! Father's powers can't stand against this, can it?"

How didn't he think of this earlier? Lucifer shook his head, a victorious exclamation following his plan. Linda looked more amazed by his plans than he was, frozen on her seat, agape and eyes wide-opened. How could she not be amazed by the Devil's mind, right?

"Easy as Devil!" he joked, laughing at his own stupidity.

He walked towards the door, stopped by Linda's worried tone behind him. "Where are you going?"

Turning one last time towards her, his hand on the handle; Lucifer stimulated her short-term memory,

"Going after some murderers, of course!"

* * *

Tbc - ' **Wrong deity'**

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

Any idea about what will happen in the next one? X)  
Thanks for reading as always and see you soon!

Next translation planned - 'The Devil lit a match' (POST S4E03).


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